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The cold at Dragonspine felt like a warning, yet at the same time, it almost felt like home for Echo Durin, what with how his remains stayed there since his death so long ago.
He wasn't exactly aware of his surroundings when he was reduced to bones and a beating heart on this snowy mountain. Maaaaybe something like a poking whenever-- now he know-- Traveler picked up some Strange Teeth and uses his beating heart to extracts vitality and made them Empowered Dragonteeth.Echo Durin remembered how Traveler looks sheepish when they told this tale, while Paimon looks like she wants to hide herself out of either horror or embarassment.
Speaking of that...
Echo stopped, sighing softly on the only place aside from Albedo's camp where snow didn't stay for long. Even with the absence of a certain thing, it seems with how much time passed, the surroundings on this area are affected by it, forever warm and red.
( ... You know, ) Mini Durin can't help but commented from deep within, ( You come back here quite often on your day out, Echo. )
Echo chuckles. "It's...nostalgic, after all, despite everything."
Ever since their agreement to coexist in one body, Echo Durin only began taking the body for himself after countless rounds of convincing from Mini Durin. Echo had insisted, again and again, that he was fine staying inside; that he didn't need more than that. But Durin refused to let the matter rest. He pointed out how, even if he was the one most often present, it would be unbearably sad for Echo to spend their shared life as nothing more than a voice in the background.
Echo Durin relented in the end. And so, every few days, Mini Durin would deliberately clear his schedule so Echo could exist openly using the body they now shared.
Mondstadt is really welcoming. Perhaps it's the way they hold onto freedom in their ways of living, or maybe it's the way people outside of Mondstadt find home in the nation, with his brother Albedo being one of them. In any case, it didn't take long for the residents of Mondstadt realizes there are two Durins residing on the humanoid dragon's body, especially since Echo didn't really try to hide his bright red eyes. Not to mention, Durin made it so on his day out, their body would wear the old outfit that has darker color and no flowing gold, making the difference even clearer.
It was with a simple snap of fingers, they find out, to switch their outfits from the old one to the new one, and vice versa.
It didn't take long too for the residents of Mondstadt to connect the dots, and despite the visible tension on the first few times (which were understandable, really, given what the history recorded of the chaos he brought so long ago), they warmed up once they realize how he too was a curious child much like the Durin with opal-like eyes.
Both Durins protested a lot of times, saying they're old enough in age to not be considered a child anymore. And yet the residents, especially the older ones, dotes on them as if they're their grandchild. Kaeya, who turned out to be experiencing the same thing, said to them to just accept the love and care with a rare smile, laughing softly as he told them they are all children of the Anemo Archon here.
Back to the present, Echo let out a long sigh, reminiscing.
Everything ahead of him had felt narrow back then. He existed to last until he didn't. He already resigned to his end one day when he was revived from the body experiment; because why would the world need a Durin that brings chaos while there is another Durin that would bring warmth and comfort to all?
Mini Durin changed that, choosing to remain when leaving would have been easier. Echo learned, slowly, that survival could be more than repetition. That he too deserves a happy ending.
... Alright, enough of that, Echo thought with a chuckle. Didn't want to drown you along with the emotional stuff. Still... I know I've said this a lot of times already, but thank you for giving me this second chance in life, Mini Durin.
Warmth flows through their shared connection. ( ... You're welcome, Echo Durin. I'm glad I didn't lose you. )
And with that, the humanoid dragon made his way out of the all-red spot, walking through the snow.
Echo exhaled, the breath fogging briefly in the air as he started down the path, only to pause when he noticed someone ahead.
A young man, seemingly Mondstadtian based on his outfit, though bundled poorly for the cold. More concerning was how he stood; as it is just a little too still for someone lost to the mountain.
Echo slowed, more instinct than thought, eyes lingering on the figure who had yet to turn around.
... Mini Durin, he murmured inwardly, lowering his gaze. Can I borrow your eyes for a moment?
They had tried this before a few times; born of curiosity, and kept as a quiet secret between them. To see whether the world could tell who was actually at the front by something as simple as swapping eye color.
It had worked; as Timaeus didn't realize it was actually Mini Durin the one in control when he borrowed Echo's bright red eyes, or vice versa when Sucrose rambled on her findings when Echo borrowed Mini Durin's opal-like eyes.
They rarely use it unless necessary, though. Because every attempt left them both reeling afterward, heavy and disorienting.
( ... Why? ) Mini Durin asked, cautious.
I just need to not look threatening right now, that's all. You know how my red eyes tend to unsettle people at first glance, Echo said with controlled calm, then gently added, I promise I'll take all the backlash. I won't let it bleed over to you when my day out is over.
Mini Durin stirred at the edge of their shared awareness, worry clear through the connection. Echo reached back reflexively, reassurance threaded through the link like a steady hand.
It's okay, Echo Durin murmured. I've got this.
The world tilted subtly, eyes felt like burning as the eye color swapping process took place. Echo blinked a few times as the burn-like feeling receded, steadying himself, already bracing for the ache he knew would come later.
Then, Echo lifted his head and took another step forward, deliberately putting more force on his steps as he made his way to the figure, borrowed opal-like eyes at the front.
Echo's nearing steps finally made the figure noticed him. The young man turned around too quickly, nearly losing balance.
"O-Oh...!!" the young man let out a shaky breath, relief flooding their expression. "T-Thank goodness someone else is here. I-I thought I was alone!!"
Echo stopped a few paces away; close enough to speak without raising his voice, yet still a few distance away from the stranger's reach.
"Are you lost, good sir?" Echo said with practiced ease, the borrowed eyes helped to dull the instinctive threat he knew his presence carried. "You certainly not dressed for this harsh weather."
The young man nodded too fast. "I know, I know. I-I was only looking for a few Starsilvers with a good road in mind, but I guess the cold messes with my head." A nervous laugh. "I-I can't find my way back to the camps. O-Or...anywhere warmer, really."
... Reasonable, yet seems well-rehearsed. After all, the young man got no visible mining kit in hand, or even a bag that'll make the reason more believable.
Echo gestured down the path with a tilt of his head. "There's a route that way. It'll take longer, but it's safer. I can walk you part of it, sir."
The hesitation came half a second too late. "... Y-You would?" the stranger asked, voice pitched carefully between hope and disbelief.
Echo Durin nodded and turned, setting a steady pace that invited following without demanding it. Snow crunched behind him soon after.
And so, they walked together down the mountain. The stranger filled the silence with small talk-- complaints about the cold, a half-hearted joke about adventurers exaggerating their own preparedness, and gratitude offered a little too often. Echo responded just enough to be polite, not even once turning to face the young man.
All the while, something coiled low in his gut. Echo's eyes narrowed when he realized it was familiarity.
With each step closer to the great Frostbearing Tree, the sensation in his gut tightened, old and unmistakable, like back then when he was a massive dark dragon. And even then after his death long ago, when Echo had been nothing but a beating heart lodged in ice and bone, he had felt them; failures scattered across the mountain, their presence registering like distant pressure against himself.
The ache behind his eyes deepened, a dull throb Echo had expected since the moment he borrowed Durin's 'eyes'.
Echo slowed slightly, and reached inward.
... Thank you, he murmured sincerely, biting back a hiss. And I'm sorry, f-for the pain. I believe you still feel it in there, even with my attempts to lessen it. I guess the harsh weather and me on alert made the b-backlash even more noticeable than w-when we do this within the safe walls of Mondstadt.
Durin's presence shifted, concern threading through the link. ( ... Y-You're pushing it. I'll be fine, Echo! I don't want you to keep all the backlash like you said you would once y-your day out is over! )
No protest over your predicament, b-but mine instead... Heh. You really are too kind, Echo steadied his breath. Don't worry, Mini Durin. Consider it a 'time out' for me for a-asking you to indulge this s-selfish wish. Besides, knowing you, you'll rope Brother Albedo or someone else to help you l-lessened the aftermath pain I told you I'll carry, coming up with a r-reasonable excuse without revealing our secret.
Mini Durin sputtered, biting back a hiss of pain from the shared backlash. ( I-I... )
Thank you for looking out for me, M-Mini Durin. But while we're both o-old enough in age, I was still born long before you, Echo laughs internally, and this time allowed himself a quiet hiss-- easily mistaken for a reaction to Dragonspine's cold. I have m-more experience in this, especially with sleeping through e-enormous pain.
Mini Durin stirred sharply. ( T-That's no laughing matter!! I-I--!! )
It's alright, d-don't worry, Echo reassured gently, warmth threading through the link. Once we're back in Mondstadt, if anyone asks-- especially B-Brother Albedo-- I'll say the mountain weighed on me, nostalgia and all. A-And that's why I decided to retreat early and sleep it off, e-even though it was supposed to be my day out.
A short pause.
( E-Echo Durin... Urgh, I guess I can't change your mind. A-At least let me handle...20% of the backlash. I'd like more, but I believe you will instantly refuse my offer. )
Echo exhaled internally, resigned but fond. ... Fine. It's a deal. N-No more than 20%, you hear me?
Mini Durin made a small sound of agreement before retreating deeper within. The burn-like feeling returned as the borrowed opal-like 'eyes' transforms back to his own bright red, and Echo closes his eyes to ease the pain just slightly, preparing himself.
He exhaled shortly after. Enough games.
They reached the tree at last, crimson remnants glinting faintly beneath the frost. Echo stopped, and he heard the young man's steps followed not long after.
"... You're remarkably calm," Echo Durin said, still facing forward. "Most lost travelers would've fled by now, or drawn a weapon. After all, I'm no mere human. My traits alone give that away."
Behind him, the stranger laughed, the sound carefully uncertain. "I didn't think it'd help much against...whatever you are. Besides, I'm the one asking for your help, aren't I?"
Echo let out a heavy sigh, caught somewhere between weariness and irritation. His eyes remained closed as he rode out the lingering backlash. And then, he says;
"... I'm surprised you didn't try to kill me already."
The reaction behind him was immediate-- an audible gasp, a stumble, breath hitching as if struck by sudden fear.
A flawless performance.
"W-What...?" the young man laughed nervously. "I-I don't know what you're talking ab--"
"You were thrown into my stomach," Echo interrupted calmly. "With how long it's been, it's no wonder we share this...distant connection. We were both created by Mother, after all.
"Even back then when I was nothing but a beating heart lodged here, I felt you moving through the mountain at your reawakening," Echo Durin continued, voice steady. "And again when you, who were cut down by Brother Albedo's blade, were placed into me once more by those who disturbed your grave. My corruption deepened then, learning from your hatred. Enough that you reawakened anew...along with many others like you."
At last, he opened his eyes, backlash pain dulled in the face of determination.
"... I can feel some of them even now," Echo added evenly, crossing his arms, still not turning around to face the stranger behind him. "Lurking nearby. On standby." A faint tilt of his head. "I assume that was your command...?"
Silence fell for a short moment, before a harsh laugh rang out behind him.
"... Took you long enough, Durin," Subject Two said flatly, the act stripped away completely.
Echo Durin finally turned. His bright red eyes were fully on display now, sharp and unmistakable. "... I had a hunch from the start," Echo replied evenly. "I just wanted to be sure."
Subject Two-- still in his disguise of a Mondstatian young man-- stilled for a fraction of a second at the sight of the color change... Then he laughed again unkindly.
"So that's how it is now." Subject Two tilted his head, eyes narrowing with renewed interest. "Figures."
A short exhale followed, amusement curling oddly at the edges of his voice. "... You know, 'Humus', you’re not as subtle as you think. The others noticed too."
Echo said nothing, letting him continue.
“After my fail--" Subject Two paused, jaw tightening. "... delayed attempt to put that Witch's most perfect creation behind bars," Subject Two went on, tone casual in a way that wasn't, "the others and I returned here, observing from afar."
He gestured vaguely toward the mountain. "They brought me...reports, let's say. Of a humanoid dragon walking freely through the streets-- like that damned 'Cretaceus'."
His gaze flicked briefly to Echo's eyes. "From a distance, you feel familiar. Close enough to hurt... But wrong enough to be something else."
Subject Two smiled thinly. "... An anomaly," he concluded. "Your reawakening changed too much of you until you're not quite one of us anymore, Durin."
Echo Durin held his stare, eyes narrowing slightly. "... So. Are you going to try anything?"
Subject Two tilted his head, studying him with a gaze that carried no pretense. "... Not so soon. The others and I are, unfortunately, still lacking the power, numbers aside."
"Good." Echo turned away. "Then we're done here. As thanks for not drawing your sword-- out of curiosity or intent-- I won't mention this to Brother Albedo. You can go back to wherever you and the others are hiding."
He turned his head just enough to cast a sharp glance over his shoulder. "... But if you act," Echo added, voice hardening, "I won't hesitate. I won't waste the second chance I was given." And with that, he turned fully and began to walk away.
Subject Two laughed behind him, loud and sharp.
"Look at you," he called, amusement thin and edged with something old. "Giving warnings? Mercy?" A mocking cackle followed. "Calling HER most perfect creation your brother?"
Echo did not turn. He kept walking, snow crunching steadily beneath his shoes as the voice behind him grew louder.
"We both used to envy him!!" Subject Two spat. "That damned golden child! URGH!!" His voice dipped, sharp with memory. "And now you stand there, calling him brother like it was ever meant to be that way? You've grown soft, Durin! Soft enough to forget what we were made to be!!"
Echo stopped at that. He turned slowly, meeting Subject Two's gaze at last.
"... I didn't forget," Echo said calmly. "I just chose not to live there anymore."
Subject Two scoffed. "And THAT makes you better?"
"No," Echo replied without hesitation. "It makes me alive."
That made Subject Two pause.
Echo held his gaze a moment longer. "We envied Brother Albedo because he was allowed to stay. And because someone gave him a chance." He exhaled, the breath trembling faintly in the cold. "... I have that too now. I won't take that for granted."
A thin smile crept onto Subject Two's face. "Enjoy it while you can," he said lightly. "That so-called chance. That false, borrowed warmth."
Echo did not respond.
"... You know," Subject Two went on, voice carrying easily through the cold, "if the damned golden child remains untouchable; if 'Cretaceus' continues to stand beyond our reach...then you’ll come to regret this." His gaze sharpened. "Regret ever deciding we were enemies."
Snow shifted as Subject Two took a step forward, young man's Mondstadtian disguise warped, his features twisting into something unsettling.
"I never forgot what SHE did to me," Subject Two said, the bitterness finally surfacing. "Declaring me a failure, casting me aside..." A humorless laugh followed. "And finally throwing me into you, as if you were nothing more than a convenient vessel; a stomach meant to swallow what she no longer wanted."
The words were measured and too personal, making the familiar feeling in Echo's gut lurched in warning.
"Should the chance allow it," Subject Two said, face unreadable, head tilting at an almost inhuman angle, deepening the threat, "we will meet again," Mockingly, he added, "... Echo Durin."
Echo's jaw tightened-- just slightly.
Without another word, he turned away, his steps practiced yet hurried. The threat settled in his chest like cold air drawn too deeply. He let it pass through him instead of rooting itself, shoes crunching forward with steady resolve.
Whatever came next, Echo would face it when it arrived.
For now, Echo Durin kept walking, leaving the neverending snow of Dragonspine behind-- along with its remnants and the promise of future conflict-- without letting them claim more than they deserved.