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—one.
“No.”
“What?” Childe blinked, unsure if he’d heard it correctly. “What do you mean?”
Sandrone didn’t even bother to spare him a glance as she walked past him, her footsteps clacking against the stone tiles. “I mean no. What part of ‘no’ do you not understand, Tartaglia?”
“But why am I not allowed to join?” he asked in disbelief, picking up his pace to match her stride. “You guys are just having tea!”
She grumbled, her face contorted into irritation. “Because the last time you barged into our tea party, you practically challenged Signora to a duel!”
“Excuse you, she had the audacity to say that I had the manners of a wild Sumpter Beast,” he said. “She insulted me first! You can’t expect me to do nothing!”
Sandrone stopped in front of an open room and took a deep breath, as if trying to inhale more patience from the air. She held a finger up and said, “One: harsh, but she did have a point.” She held up another finger. “Two: I will not have you ruin our gathering just because your feelings get hurt!”
“Please? I promise I won’t fight anyone.” Childe pressed his palms together, giving her his best boyish grin. “Do you need me to pinkie swear?”
“The answer is still no.” Sandrone stepped into the room. “Now if you don’t mind, I have actual business to attend to, unlike some people.”
She shut the door right in his face. It felt like the wooden slab was taunting him, and he wanted nothing more than to kick it down just to annoy Sandrone out of spite. She might even fight him for it.
But Childe was a newcomer—the youngest harbinger, the most inexperienced of the merry lot. He needed to stay in their good graces if he wanted to keep his job and survive here. Taking a deep breath, he turned and walked away.
Fortunately, Childe was given a mission that day. He quickly packed his things—enough for a couple of days—and left the headquarters. He had considered asking for tips from the higher-ranked harbingers before leaving, but he couldn’t find a single one of them. It led him to suspect that they were playing hide and seek somewhere to avoid him. And since Childe had his pride to protect, he certainly wasn’t going to look for Sandrone.
He managed to wrap up his mission earlier than anticipated. The person he’d been ordered to capture had been surprisingly cooperative, Childe hadn’t even needed to get creative with his threats.
When he finally returned to his room after two days of tailing and eavesdropping, he collapsed onto his bed. Then he squinted at his desk, where a small cake sat on top of his paperwork.
Childe got up and strode across the room. Upon closer inspection, there was a neat envelope beside the cake. He picked it up and sat in his chair.
Columbina said it’s your birthday today. Seriously, were you trying to look busy? You were nowhere to be found. Don’t blame us for missing your only chance to join our tea party.
Enjoy your cake.
-Sandrone
He chuckled. The Marionette was a softie inside, after all.
—two.
Childe was thoroughly convinced that Liyue’s humidity was trying to murder him. Negotiating with a group of Treasure Hoarders under the scorching sun was not his idea of a good time. He wasn’t sure why the Treasure Hoarders had chosen a particular clearing devoid of trees, buildings, or any kind of shade for their meeting. It would’ve been at least fun if they provoked him to a fight, but unfortunately, it seemed that they knew better than to challenge the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger. So now, Childe walked up the stairs to the Northland Bank’s entrance, smelling of sweat and sunlight, his energy entirely evaporated.
“Master Childe,” Ekaterina called out when he entered the Northland Bank. “A word, if you please.”
Childe sighed, crossing the room to the receptionist desk. “Look, if it’s about Pantalone’s proposal, I promise I’ll look at it—”
“It’s not about that, sir,” she interrupted. “One of our recruits reported seeing Teucer at the Liuli Pavilion. He seemed quite frantic.”
Childe froze, his fatigue instantly vanishing. His stomach plummeted with a sudden surge of panic. Teucer? In Liyue? Again? “What? When was this?”
“Just an hour ago. Vlad is with him as we speak.”
Without another word, Childe sprinted out of the bank and descended the stairs, taking two at a time. He couldn't believe that Teucer had stowed away on another ship to see him again—and on his birthday, no less. That had to be why Teucer had done it.
Still, Childe was going to give his little brother an earful for giving him a heart attack.
He threw the doors of Liuli Pavilion open, ignoring the startled yelp from the receptionist. He climbed the stairs and burst into the private dining hall. It was pitch black, the air smelled of roasted meat and broth. Childe materialized his hydro blades, ready to defend his brother from whatever trouble he had gotten himself into.
“Teucer, are you—”
“Surprise!”
There was a toot sound, followed by a sharp pop. The lights turned on, and Childe stopped in his tracks, his blades fizzling out of existence as he watched bits of confetti flying in the air.
A dozen of his subordinates were crammed into the space behind the round table in the center of the room. Strung across the wooden beams was a large banner that read:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MASTER CHILDE!
A variety of food sat on the table—dumplings, noodles, and, his favorite, seafood. Vlad stood in the center, holding a party blower.
Childe said, “My little brother. Is he—”
“I assure you, he is safe at Snezhnaya, Master Childe,” Vlad explained. “Apologies for lying to you, we couldn’t think of a reason to get you here.”
Childe looked around the room, entirely out of his element. A warm, fuzzy feeling wrapped around his chest. “You guys…” He searched for words to say as his subordinates looked at him nervously.
Nadia, who was holding a party popper, stepped out of the crowd. She cleared her throat. “Is…is it too much, sir? We didn’t mean to cross any boundaries. We knew you’ve been working hard and you haven’t—”
“No!” Childe said quickly. A genuine smile spread across his face. “I just didn’t expect you guys to do all this for me.”
The person at the back exclaimed, their mask muffling their voice slightly. “It’s the least we can do after everything you’ve done for us, sir.”
Childe looked at the feast and the rest of his subordinates. It wasn’t Snezhnaya, where his mother would cook his favorite food as he sat by the hearth, his siblings would give him hand-made presents, and his father would take him ice fishing. It was Liyue. The sun roasted his skin on a daily basis, and the people cast irritated glares when they saw his mask. But looking at the slightly lopsided banner, the feast, and the bright faces of the recruits, the distance between Liyue and Snezhnaya felt small. The warmth he usually sought in Morepesok was standing in front of him, dressed in dark hooded cloaks and masks.
Childe blinked back the sudden unfamiliar prickle of emotion, replacing it with a smile. “Thanks guys, I really appreciate it.”
He gestured broadly to the feast. “Well, what are we waiting for? Come, pull up a chair, everyone! Vlad, grab the glasses. Drinks are on me tonight!”
—three.
Capitano had the tip of his sword pointed at Childe’s throat. Childe’s breath heaved in rhythm with his chest as he stared at his own reflection in Capitano’s metal helmet—his ginger hair was damp from a mix of sweat and melted snow, his eyes wide from the adrenaline coursing through his veins, and a small cut bled across his cheekbone.
How curious. He still looked positively dashing. Even more so, in fact.
“No wonder the Traveler bested you,” said Capitano, lowering his sword.
Childe laughed, his hydro blades vanishing into the air. His mind flashed images of golden hair, the clash of their blades, and ferocious eyes that held no fear of him.
He couldn’t keep the tinge of admiration from slipping through his voice. “Oh, but she really was quite something. You should’ve seen the way she wielded two elements. And without a vision!”
“...I’ve heard.” Capitano walked towards the weapons rack, his long dark hair dusting with snowflakes. “You should control your emotions.”
Childe nodded as he followed Capitano, his footsteps crunching against the snow.
“Stay focused. Look for openings and your opponents’ tells,” Capitano continued. “Try not to let your emotions cloud your mind if you don’t want to repeat your mistakes in the Golden House.”
Childe winced. “Mm. Yes. I should work on that.”
“Also that was not how you hold a bow.” Capitano grabbed a bow from the weapon rack and tossed it at him. “Let’s work on your posture.”
Childe caught it with ease and took some arrows from the rack. Capitano was already walking back to the center of the courtyard.
“I have to ask something, though,” Childe said.
“What is it?”
“Why did you suddenly agree to spar with me today? You always said I wasn’t ready,” he asked, slinging the bow over his shoulder as he trailed behind Capitano.
“It’s your birthday today, is it not?” Capitano glanced at him. “Consider this my gift to you.”
Childe halted. He blinked once. Twice. “My birthday is next week.”
Capitano froze. A few painful seconds passed before he spoke, “Oh.”
“Does this mean I get to spar with you again next week, Captain?” A wide grin spread across his face.
Capitano didn’t answer, he merely sauntered off further into the courtyard. Childe let out a huff, he would give everything to see Capitano’s face under his helmet right now.
The First of the Fatui Harbingers. The nigh-invincible Captain. Flustered.
“I’ll take that as a yes, then!” Childe exclaimed, jogging across the snow.
Capitano chuckled, glancing over his shoulder. “I’ll consider it.”
—four.
Word had it that the Traveler, Lumine, had arrived in Fontaine, meaning Childe was highly likely to cross paths with her during his vacation. The Knave had warned him to exercise caution, or better yet, avoid making a scene entirely.
Childe leaned against the railing outside the Palais Mermonia overlooking the busy Court of Fontaine, inhaling the scent of salty sea air with a hint of pastries. As he stared at the people and melusines rushing through the streets below, he liked to think that one of them was a certain golden-haired traveler, walking with her head held up high, chatting with the floating fairy at her side.
He immediately quashed the thought.
It was not good to think about someone who had repeatedly obstructed the Fatui’s plans in this light.
A sudden, strange presence made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He whipped around, expecting an assassin. Instead, it was a short guy with a bob haircut holding an umbrella—wait, no, not an umbrella. It was the guy’s hat. He was wearing a comically large one.
“No, I am not an assassin nor am I anyone who is interested in wasting my energy to kill you,” Umbrella Hat said in a flat tone before Childe could open his mouth.
Childe barely processed the bizarre greeting when Umbrella Hat took a step forward. “Here. Happy birthday.” He shoved a glass bottle into Childe’s hand.
“Thank…you,” Childe said, his tone making it seem like a question instead. He lifted the bottle to examine it more closely. “I don’t understand—”
“It’s Inazuman sake,” Umbrella Hat interrupted. “Have someone taste it for poison if you don’t believe me. I don’t care.”
“Just wait a moment here. Who are you?”
“It doesn't matter. I’m not interested in getting tangled up with you people.”
Childe blinked, bewildered by the hostility, and hardly believed this encounter wasn’t a hallucination his mind had conjured. “Then why give me a gift? How did you even know it’s my birthday?”
“Look, I really need to leave now.” Umbrella Hat sighed, already turning around. He looked over his shoulder, the tassels hanging off the back of his hat swishing with the movement. “One more thing, stop purposely pissing people off so you can have an excuse to fight them. You’ll get yourself killed someday if you keep that up.”
Childe’s eye widened, slightly offended by how this short guy with a stupid hat had the audacity to underestimate his skills. Yet, he found a strange sense of familiarity in this grumpy stranger’s condescending tone. “Have we met before?”
Umbrella Hat paused, a shadow crossed over his face before shifting into a smirk. “I told you. It doesn't matter. This will be the last time you see me anyways.” He lifted his hand and waved. “Take care, Tartaglia.”
“Wait!”
Umbrella Hat flew away, ascending into the Fontaine sky and soared towards the walls surrounding the Court of Fontaine.
Childe stared at the empty space, then down at the Inazuman sake. A wave of gentle warmth swept over his chest, making him completely baffled. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something important he was forgetting. Like it was hidden in the back of his mind, a thread hanging loose just outside of his reach.
—five.
Childe was going over paperwork in his quarters. He rubbed his temples against a growing headache. His mother had practically ordered him to come home for his birthday–which was today–but seeing the stack of papers on his desk, it seemed that he was destined to spend his birthday doing nothing but work at the headquarters. He had sent word that he would not be home for his birthday this year. What a shame, he’d been wondering what meal his mother would’ve prepared for him.
The door creaked open, interrupting his train of thoughts.
“Brother!”
Childe snapped his head up. A familiar figure with pigtails was poking out of the doorway. His heart threatened to jump out of his chest. “Tonia? You’re not supposed to be here!”
Before he could stand up properly, a blur of pink winter coat and ginger hair slammed into his chest. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her as she buried her face into his coat.
“How did you get in? Civilians are not allowed in here, you know.”
Tonia pulled back just enough to beam up at him, her cheeks red from the cold. She put a small basket packed with pastries on his desk. “I’m not letting you spend your birthday alone! Besides, a kind lady helped me inside.”
His eyes narrowed. “What? Who?”
“I believe she’s referring to me.” Arlecchino stepped inside the room, her figure casting a shadow across the floor. She closed the door with a soft click. “Happy birthday, Tartaglia. Your sister was crying outside the gates demanding to see her ‘loyal knight.’ It wasn’t easy shielding her from the guards’ eyes, mind you.”
Childe stared at the Knave for a long moment. He might’ve imagined it, but there was a hint of softness behind her dark eyes. Perhaps the sight of a small girl sobbing in the snow had thawed the ice in her heart. “Thank you, Arlecchino. Truly.”
Tonia beamed, tugging on Arlecchino’s coat. “You should join us! I brought more than enough pastries for everyone!”
“Thank you, but I’d rather not intrude on a family moment,” Arlecchino replied with a small smile. Her gaze shifted back to Childe. “You have thirty minutes before I come back to escort her home. Is that enough time?”
Tonia nodded, her pigtails bouncing.
Childe looked down at Tonia, who was looking at him as if he hung the stars. He ruffled her hair. “More than enough.”
—six.
Childe had never felt so useless as when he found out that Lumine had been captured by none other than his supposed colleague, Il Dottore. He had no choice but to turn back to Snezhnaya, carry out his own mission from the Tsaritsa, and let Sandrone and Arlecchino handle it—not that he didn’t trust their abilities, but he couldn’t get rid of the tightening nausea in the pit of his stomach.
After he finished his mission, he received word that not only had they managed to save Lumine, but the Nod-Krai problem had been swiftly dealt with. From what he had heard, Lumine had played a significant role as well. All the more reason to see for himself if she was alright.
She was probably fine, knowing her. But, well, he just wanted to make sure. At least that was what he kept telling himself on his way back to Nod-Krai, boarding the earliest ship he could find.
The first thing Childe did when he stepped into the bustling Nasha Town was head straight to the Adventurers’ Guild. No matter how tired or hurt she was, Lumine would most likely still take commissions for a handful of mora, just enough to feed Paimon and scrape by.
Sure enough, Lumine seemed in the middle of a conversation with Katheryne by the counter, her golden hair glowing under the sun.
“Comrade!” Childe called out, jogging towards the counter.
She looked around, before landing her gaze on him, her eyes widening. “Childe? I thought you'd gone back to Snezhnaya.”
“Well, I did. I just got back here,” Childe said, stopping in front of her. He eyed her from head to toe, noting that there wasn’t so much as a scratch on her. Nothing visible to the eye, at least. Good.
“Why?”
Because he’d be the biggest idiot to have ever walked on this planet if he didn’t use this opportunity to see her again.
“To see you, of course.”
Lumine stared at him for a moment, dazed, before looking away. “Oh.”
She slipped past him, walking away from the front of the counter to not hold the line of adventurers behind them.
Childe raised a brow, catching up to her. “Oh? That’s all you have to say to me after two years?” He stepped into her path, halting her mid-stride, and grinned. “You don’t miss this stupidly attractive face?”
Lumine snorted, but there was no bite to it. He caught the twitch in the corners of her mouth. “You wish.”
His face shifted into a knowing smile. “I missed you too, comrade.”
She shifted her weight, fidgeting with the strap of her satchel. She dug into her bag and produced a neatly wrapped package, tied with a ribbon.
“I was actually going to mail this to you,” Lumine said, holding it out. “Happy birthday, Childe.”
In the midst of his mission and everything that had happened in Nod-Krai, Childe had completely forgotten his birthday. His heart did a strange flip in his chest as he took the package. “Can I open it?”
“Go ahead.”
He carefully unwrapped the paper, revealing a soft, thick bundle of fabric. He lifted it up. It was a scarf. The colour reminded him of the ocean.
“Sorry if the edges look a little bumpy in some parts.” Lumine rubbed the back of her neck. “I really tried. But the yarn kept splitting and I couldn’t keep the tension—”
“You knit this yourself?”
“Crocheted. Yes,” she corrected softly, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red as she continued, “And before you say anything, yes, I know it’s not perfect.”
“It’s perfect,” Childe held it out toward her. “Help me put this on, will you?”
“You have hands. Do it yourself.”
“I can’t. My hands are frozen. I have cramps all over my arms.”
Lumine rolled her eyes. “You’re literally wearing gloves.”
“Come on, it’s my birthday. Can’t I get special treatment from the esteemed Traveler?”
She let out an exaggerated groan before taking the scarf from him and stepped closer. Standing on her tiptoes, she looped the fabric around his neck, her fingers brushing his skin. Childe’s gaze traced along her features—the shape of her eyes, her flushed cheeks, her slightly parted lips. She smelled of soap and flowers.
Childe cleared his throat before asking, “Can I ask why blue, of all colours? As you can see, it’s not my usual colour palette.”
Lumine adjusted the edges, patting the wool down against his chest. Her fingers lingered for a second too long before she dropped her hands to her sides and took a step back. She lifted her head, her eyes locking onto his.
“I don’t know,” she said, a gentle smile gracing her lips. “I just thought it would bring out your eyes.”
His breath hitched in his throat. A terrifying heat bloomed in the center of his chest and up to his neck.
“Does it?” he murmured.
Lumine took a moment to look at the ocean blue wrapped around his neck before looking back up to meet his gaze. She gave a small nod.
He wondered what would happen if he were to stop playing this game of theirs, this dangerous dance of skirting the edges of uncharted territory.
Before he could give in to the impulse, she looked away, breaking the spell. “Anyway, let’s have dinner together. To catch up, I mean.”
Lumine turned on her heel and began walking down the path deeper into the town. Childe remained frozen in place, his hand absent-mindedly reaching up to trace the soft, crocheted loops of the scarf as he stared at her retreating back.
Her figure moved seamlessly into the bustling crowd of Nasha Town–gold amidst a sea of dull blacks and greys. He watched her hair catching the final rays of the setting sun, her white dress swaying in the wind. Teyvat was incredibly vast, and yet, as Childe stood there, his whole world was slowly narrowing down to a single person. It was a horrifying realization—he would follow her to the ends of the universe if she asked him to.
Lumine paused a few paces ahead, glancing back over her shoulder. “Well? Are you coming? Or are you just going to stand there all day?”
A breathless laugh escaped his lips. Childe quickly picked up his pace to follow her. “Right behind you, comrade.”