Archive of Our Own

"Take this feeling with the hallowing of soil, and give them to the world. This is my parting gift."

Red feathers drifted away from their source, dissipating into motes of light that quickly winked out of existence. The Nail of Retribution continued to crumble apart, the deafening creak of the Celestial creation threatening to drown all of Snezhnaya in a tidal wave of sound. The immortalized remains of the Cryo Sovereign stood stalwart against the horizon, glowing with unnatural light — the influence of the Eitr clashed against the Nail's power, punching a hole into the sky, a star-studded obsidian that shone and rippled with stair-like ripples of blue, iridescent light.

Beneath that light, a figure began to dissolve.

Far away from any eyes — human, god, or anything else — "Death" faded away.

"Wake up, bard," Diluc's rough voice cut through the air, harsh against Venti's ears.

Venti blinked his eyes open slowly, groaning when the light met his retinas. His head spun, filled with that gentle buzz from an overabundance of dandelion wine — it took him a moment to gather his bearings, though the reassuring, familiar sturdiness of the Angel Share's bar against his slumped form helped.

Sitting up slowly, Venti yawned, stretching, before aiming a lazy grin in the direction of the unamused Diluc, sitting behind the bar and cleaning a mug.

"So eager to kick out your best customer? Why, Master Diluc, this is no way to run a business," his voice lilted, somewhere between teasing and beseeching, to no avail. The words merely elicited an eyeroll from Diluc, who gestured firmly toward the door with his head.

"You're being cut off. Go home, or wherever it is you live when you're not here."

Theatrically, Venti gasped, going so far as to rest his hand on his chest, eyes wide with offense.

"So rude! I can't help but remember—" Before he could finish the sentence, Diluc sat the mug on the bar, eyes narrowing at Venti.

"In order for you to be a 'customer', bard, you have to actually pay for your drinks. Continually putting it on yours and the Traveler's tabs doesn't count. So, out. It's late, and I need to close for the night."

Faced with two arguments he could never hope to debate — after all, he did shamelessly mooch off of the Traveler (not that she minded!) and he knew that Diluc had his own, shall we say, recreational activities to attend to — Venti sighed, head and shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Fine, fine, I'll get out of your hair. See you in the morning, Master Diluc!" Waving a hand, he slipped out of the chair, and tactfully ignored the mumbled reply from Diluc — something along the lines of "I hope not," which Venti chose to believe he'd simply misheard.

Surely one of his beloved children of Mondstadt would never be so callous as to speak such words to their own Archon! Unfathomable.

He giggled to himself at the thought, well aware of the myriad blasphemes he'd heard on the wind.

Practiced ease carried him through the door of Angel's Share, out into the cool Mondstadt night — the breeze brushed through his hair, ruffling his bangs, and he couldn't help but grin, the sensation akin to being greeted by an old friend.

Despite having been kicked out of the bar, he found his spirits (hah) buoyed by the simple joy of being amongst the cozy streets. His shoes lightly clicked against the stone walkway leading away from Angel's Share, curving to the right and towards the upper layer of the city. Absently, he considered dropping in on Jean in the morning, if only to be the lovable nuisance that he—

His thoughts stalled out, train of thought coming to a violent stop, a chill running down his spine.

He blinked slowly, his steps coming to a stop mere feet away from the door to the bar. Teal eyes began to glow with barely-contained Anemo, Venti reaching out with his senses in an attempt to discern the source of the sudden discomfort rippling over his form like a second skin.

Everywhere the wind was, so was he. Closing his eyes, he let the breeze flow over him, past him, through him, carrying his sight throughout the entirety of Teyvat— there. The breath caught in the chest of his corporeal form, and when he reopened his eyes, senses returning to normal, he spun on his back foot, catching sight of the cause with his own eyes.

On the distant horizon, hovering over Dragonspine in the same way it'd been doing since the Traveler had rolled through almost six years prior, the Skyfrost Nail glowed a bright, sickening blue. It hung over the mountain like a guillotine's blade waiting to drop, and that impression only grew as Venti's eyes trailed upwards. A spire of light cut through the air from the Nail, severing the sky in twain, culminating in a four-pointed star, a hole punched in the sky, displaying nothing but the stars behind it.

Were those the real stars?

The thought had barely percolated before Venti was moving.

Doubling back the way he had come, he rushed back through the door to Angel's Share — though Diluc's expression at seeing him again was mutinous at first, whatever was displaying on his own face was clearly severe enough that it faded instantly, replaced with a worried furrow of his brow, and Diluc was quick to navigate around the bar.

"What is it?" he asked simply, and Venti grimaced, motioning outside with his head.

"You should see for yourself."

The two of them stepped back outside, Venti gesturing towards the direction of Dragonspine. Though Diluc wasn't, by most measures, an expressive man, his eyes widened noticeably, and he muttered a curse that Venti normally would have teased him for.

Not today.

"I'll go let Jean know. Chances are she's still awake, assuming she hasn't noticed it already." Diluc's voice was firm, as steady as always, and Venti, not for the first time, found himself thankful that his little nation had produced such reliable people.

"I'll check it out up close, see what we're missing by being down here," Venti offered, and Diluc nodded. As Venti retrieved his lyre from thin air, though, Diluc paused where he'd begun making his way towards the Knights' headquarters. Venti's fingers hesitated where they rested, millimeters from the lyre's strings, and his eyes swiveled up to lock onto Diluc's.

"…Venti. Is this an Honorary Knight situation?"

Despite himself, Venti couldn't help but giggle.

"Oh, don't worry, Diluc. I'm sure that, wherever she happens to be, she's already on it."

With the little reassurance that it provided, Diluc nodded once more and took off towards the upper layer of the city, and Venti, feeling the smile drop off of his lips, allowed himself the momentary joy of strumming his fingers over his lyre's strings. The tune, lilting and soft, rung out in the quiet air of a slumbering Mondstadt, peacefully unaware of the potential doom looming above it — Venti hoped it would be a ballad, and not a requiem.

Alongside the drifting notes, the soft tune carried by the wind, Venti allowed his form to dissipate into threads of vibrant teal. The world fell away, his consciousness melding with the breeze, an unparalleled freedom that he tried his best to savor, despite the circumstances. It was always a thrill, letting the wind lead, but after only a few moments, the wind had carried him to his destination.

The air circled loosely around the Skyfrost Nail, ebbing and flowing in gentle currents, and with a soft flash of blue-green light, Venti settled atop those currents, his natural buoyancy carrying him up and up and up, closer and closer to that gaping hole in the sky.

His eyes locked onto the star-shaped void, and the closer he got, the higher the wind carried him, the more potent the sensation of nausea coursing through him grew. His mouth twisted in discomfort, eyebrows furrowing — while the sensation of the wind around him and caressing his form was usually soothing, he found that it'd taken on a sour tinge, an unfamiliar note of metal in the air, almost a touch of iron against the tongue.

Disconcerting. Disorienting, as though someone had come into his house and moved all of his furniture an inch to the side.

Tightly, he grasped onto his lyre, tension thrumming through him beat after beat, the wind currents terminating just meters away from the hole in the sky. So far up, there was less oxygen to go around, but that was hardly a concern for the Anemo Archon, Gnosis or not — the wind keeping him aloft flowed out of him in waves, eyes and braids glowing with power, gaze fixated on the gap in space before him.

It was like staring into the Abyss.

The same sickening feeling of something unnatural, unfamiliar, roiled beneath his skin, an instinctual revulsion, to his very core, telling him to run, to get as far away as he possibly could.

At the same time, his rational side, the part of him that sounded suspiciously like a certain blonde Traveler, refused to let him do so. It reminded him that, even if he was undercover, he was still the people's Archon — he had a responsibility, if not an outright obligation, to do the right thing.

So, he stayed.

Reaching out with his senses once more, he clenched his jaw and fought through the discomfort at nudging up against the energy spewing from the Nail and its star-shaped companion. Just being close to it reminded him uncomfortably of the Abyssal poison that had once coursed through him, albeit in a different sense. It was almost the opposite, though uncomfortable in the same way — he struggled to put words to it, though he was beginning to form a hunch as to what it meant.

He made a mental note to talk to Dvalin the first opportunity he had. In the meantime, though, there was little more information to be gained by hanging around. He catalogued the energy spewing from the Nail, committing the sight of the staircase-shaped light spiraling around it for later, and strummed his lyre once more.

He gave one last look behind him at the Nail, expression unreadable, before dissipating into streaks of wind, the breeze carrying him back to the city.

Buried in his thoughts, he almost missed his mark completely — narrowly, he avoided slamming into the window of Jean's office like a bird, instead drifting inside and nearly stumbling upon reforming into physical matter, avoiding it with the assistance of a convenient gust of wind applied in the opposite direction.

He huffed out a distracted breath, and turned his attention to the three people already in the room, all three looking at him with an assemblage of expressions.

Jean, visibly concerned, but trying not to show it; Diluc, somewhere between exasperated and faintly amused; and Albedo, intrigued, with a note of his own concern.

Altogether, pretty much exactly what he was expecting. Breathing in deep, Venti opened his mouth to speak—

The door to Jean's office slammed open, admitting an energetic Amber, wild-eyed and fidgety, rushing in to join the small group that had formed. Jean, expression flummoxed, was the first to speak.

"Amber? What are you—"

"I, well, um, I couldn't sleep and I saw the thing with the, y'know, the spiky thing over Dragonspine, so I thought, well, since that's definitely not supposed to happen, we were gonna do something about it, and I wanted to help!" She somehow managed to rush the words out all in a single breath, and Albedo held up a hand, stalling the order that Jean was clearly about to speak.

"You would be correct, Amber. We're working out a plan based on the information available to us. I presume that is what you are here for, Venti?" he asked, prompting a nod from the bard in question.

"While I was on my way to talk to Jean," Diluc interjected, speaking up from where he was leaning against the table adjacent to the door, "he went to investigate."

"Judging by the look on your face, Venti, it's not good news," Jean summarized, concern on her features giving way to resigned determination, and Venti's shoulders slumped, breathing out a sigh alongside another nod.

"To be honest," he started, waving away his lyre in a stream of Anemo, "I've got bad news and I've got worse news." Turning his attention back up to the group, his uncharacteristically solemn gaze fixated on each of their faces in turn, his voice growing softer, more pensive.

"The bad news is, if my guess is right, we're in some really deep trouble this time."

Zhongli paid no mind to the commotion playing out inside the Jade Chamber, the muffled sound of multiple conversations occurring simultaneously, all focused on the same thing. The same looming concern that had brought him here, and occupied his current attention.

Solemnly, he stood upon the stone pathway on the Chamber's deck, arms clasped behind him, amber gaze fixated on the current topic of discussion amongst the people: the three star-shaped rifts in the sky visible from the Jade Chamber, gaps in space punched straight through the firmament. One above Dragonspine, another above the Chasm, and the third above Mount Damavand in Sumeru.

He'd learned through Ningguang — confirming the hunch that had formed the moment he'd seen the rift over the Chasm — that there were matching phenomena in every nation aside from Fontaine (and Nod-Krai, even though it was technically a protectorate of Snezhnaya). It painted a grim picture, one that filled him with a vague sense of unease. He knew what it meant better than most, well aware of the implications, even if he wasn't sure how it'd come about — even now, if he paid close attention, he could feel that unpleasant, sickly sweet energy tickling at the edges of his senses.

It was still distant, thankfully — though there was no telling for how long that would remain the case.

Drawing him out of his contemplation of their circumstances, Zhongli sensed a familiar presence behind him, albeit a slightly surprising one.

"Good evening, Xiao," he murmured, without turning around.

"R— mm. Zhongli," Xiao corrected himself quickly, drawing out a soft laugh from the man in question.

"It is a pleasure to see you, even if the circumstances are decidedly less than. I trust you have been keeping well in recent times?" Zhongli asked, tilting his head slightly to glance back at Xiao. He allowed himself a small smile at the nod Xiao provided, and he gestured with a hand for Xiao to approach, turning back towards the looming gap in space.

For one moment, then two, then many more, there was silence — Zhongli felt no compulsion to break it, dwelling amongst his own thoughts.

With so much at stake, there was little room for error. Not to mention that the Moonchase Festival was right around the corner — it was inauspicious, that much was for certain. If he were a more superstitious, and more paranoid, person, he would almost say that it felt almost like a final celebration.

He discarded the thought almost as quickly as he had it. That line of thought would help no one.

"What is the plan?" Xiao cut through his train of thought, eliciting a sigh — soft, low, concealing a multitude of emotions that he himself couldn't name.

"Currently, the adepti — represented by Cloud Retainer — are meeting with members of the Qixing inside to determine that very thing," Zhongli said quietly, Xiao's eyebrow raising in response. "As you can guess by my presence here, I was offered an invitation as a consultant. However, I… requested some air."

Left unspoken, though Zhongli was certain Xiao would understand, was his desire to remain uninvolved — for as much as he wished for Liyue, and Teyvat as a whole, to remain safe, he had retired. It rested in younger, more capable hands, now. He'd been the stalwart protector of the nation for long enough, and the baton had passed.

Even so, though, looking over at Xiao and taking note of his expectant air, Zhongli supposed that some things never changed.

Another moment of silence hung between them, Zhongli considering his words carefully. He tried very hard to avoid resting unnecessary burdens upon Xiao's shoulders — and yet, here they were, circumstances having conspired to ensure he once more had to rely upon the adeptus who had, by all rights, earned his own rest.

"…The Chasm," Zhongli began. "The Spiritstone within it. That would be the source of the… disturbance. Station yourself at the surface and keep watch over the rift and its surroundings. Let me know if anything changes."

Part of him mourned, seeing the way Xiao nodded dutifully. He hoped that someday Xiao would be able to set down his spear — though, with the way events had been proceeding in recent times, he feared it might be later rather than sooner.

The now-customary faint ache in his chest made itself known, watching Xiao disappear in a flicker of black and blue light, leaving behind a trail of karmic debt that only the most trained in adeptal arts could sense. Silent once more, he stood alone upon the deck of the Jade Chamber, staring up at the star-studded hole in the sky, as if hoping to wring out some answers. When none were forthcoming — as expected — he breathed out a slow, deep sigh, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

Here he was, dwelling on sentimentality when the world was at risk.

Arms still clasped behind his back, he slowly treaded back the way he'd come, offering Zhenhai a polite nod on his way inside the Chamber. Distant memories played behind his eyes when the wall of sound from inside washed over him, recalling a multitude of war councils that had played out in the past, meetings that he'd governed over, in the most literal of senses.

"Truly, some things do never change," he murmured to himself, slow and deliberate footsteps carrying him through the Chamber to the designated meeting room. Upon slipping back inside, his eyes took in the center table — covered in documents, reports, eyewitness accounts — and the people around it — Ningguang, Keqing, Tian, Cloud Retainer, Ganyu, and a multitude of other Qixing employees.

"With all due respect," Keqing was saying, "it'd be utterly foolish for us to rely on the adepti to investigate, when we have perfectly capable forces—"

"One believes you could use a lesson on respect, Yuheng," Cloud Retainer grumbled, causing Keqing to bristle. "Suggesting a division of resources, under the circumstances, would be the foolish decision. One is, as you so eloquently put it, 'perfectly capable' of observing for oneself—"

Zhongli pinched the bridge of his nose, the conversation devolving into veiled insults and petty back-and-forth. Exasperation flowed off of him in waves, he was sure, but there was hardly ever going to be any other outcome from putting humans and adepti in the same room.

"Both of you make good points," Ningguang cut in smoothly, providing Zhongli much needed relief, the Tianquan leaning forward against the table. "We do have the resources to spare, and the adepti would be best suited for investigating a problem of this scale. I propose an arrangement. We will ensure the Chasm is kept secure, and the adepti will be provided the resources for investigation. Does anyone oppose?"

Despite the circumstances, Zhongli felt hope begin to settle in his chest, seeing the two disparate groups work together.

Maybe some things could change.

Miko had a reputation for being imperturbable.

She wouldn't necessarily say that it wasn't earned — after all, she'd worked hard to get where she is — but when it truly mattered, she could hardly say that she wouldn't step up to the plate, so to speak.

That is to say, her eyes were quick to catch on the troubled look adorning the Traveler's features in those brief moments before she disappeared in a flash of blue light. It'd been quite some time since Miko had seen the Traveler look so disconcerted — enough that she found herself moving "talk to Kokomi" up her priority list to the number one spot. Something was afoot, and she was determined to get ahead of whatever the Heavenly Principles had up their sleeves this time.

That was what brought her to Watatsumi Island — Sangonomiya Shrine, specifically.

Idly, she leaned against the railing circling the front of the shrine building, checking her nails and amusing herself with the occasional glances from the shrine maidens. She'd hardly cared to involve herself in the politics of Watatsumi, preferring instead to pick at details regarding Narukami's jurisdiction, but she didn't have to be the consummate politician to pick up on the tension.

It helped that she was, though.

Before she could start getting impatient, a shrine maiden whose name she hadn't caught stepped out of the building, offering a bow just deep enough to be polite, gesturing inside with a hand.

"Her Excellency is ready to see you now, Lady Guuji," she said, tone tightly controlled — it reminded Miko almost of little Ayaka, the way she tried so hard to avoid giving anything away.

"Mmhmm," Miko hummed, straightening up and waltzing into the shrine confidently. Though, not without a "my thanks, little one," aimed at the shrine maiden, the look of puzzlement crossing her features amusing Miko endlessly. The maidens at the Grand Narukami Shrine had long since gotten used to her antics — having a new audience was hardly an opportunity she could pass up.

"Right this way, Lady Guuji," a different shrine maiden chimed in once Miko had stepped fully inside. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the stuffy atmosphere — she could hardly breathe, it was so formal. She had half a mind to say something, but with how tightly wound the shrine maiden seemed to be — and, indeed, said maiden's posture was ramrod straight, each footstep clearly deliberately taken — Miko thought for a moment that she might just have a psychological breakdown, and Miko had no intentions of altering the purpose of her meeting with Kokomi to focus on arranging compensation.

She giggled to herself at the thought, only growing more amused at the way the sound made the shrine maiden twitch — whether it be fear or surprise, Miko found it hilarious all the same.

Just when she was about to open her mouth to tease, the duo came upon the door leading to Kokomi's office. Settling next to the door as it swung open, the shrine maiden offered Miko a polite bow, and Miko could hardly resist the urge to ruffle her hair indulgently on her way inside.

Really, it was only a shame that Miko wasn't able to catch the expression on the shrine maiden's face before she stepped inside.

"Fried Tofu With All the Frills," Kokomi spoke up softly, drawing Miko's gaze over to her. Despite her characteristic air of exhaustion, Kokomi seemed genuinely pleased to see her, eliciting a smile from Miko.

"Sole of the Deep," Miko teased back, "I wasn't aware we were using codenames for this meeting. Should I have dressed more clandestinely?"

"No, no," Kokomi laughed, gesturing for Miko to sit in the chair on the opposite side of her desk from where she was already sitting. "I just didn't want to set the wrong tone by using your formal title. Unless you'd prefer I use a more formal mode of address?"

Settling easily into the seat, Miko's smile sharpened at the opening she'd been granted.

"Oh, little Kokomi. There are many titles I'd greatly enjoy to hear out of you," she murmured, violet eyes gleaming at the gentle blush that immediately dusted Kokomi's cheeks.

"Yes, well… um…" she stammered, drawing a laugh out of Miko.

"Hehe. You are simply precious when you make that face." It was hard to tell if the praise was genuine or not, Miko's tone virtually impossible for Kokomi to read at the best of times, and Miko was well aware. Expectedly, though, Kokomi cleared her throat and willed the blush off of her face, setting her hands on her desk and looking up at Miko calmly.

"I assume you called for this meeting for a reason besides just wanting to spend time with me, Miko?" Kokomi prompted, and Miko sighed, inclining her head and absently gesturing with her hand.

"Indeed I did, but before that, I must ask… have you been paying much attention to Tsurumi Island lately?" she asked, the question seeming to catch Kokomi off guard for a split second, judging by the slight widening of her eyes.

"I… can't say that I have, no. Much of our focus has been on Watatsumi-only affairs, aside from the occasional liaison with the Tenryou and Yashiro Commissions. What's happening?" Kokomi's voice betrayed her concern, and Miko almost felt a little bad for adding more to her plate.

Almost.

"Well, that is why I'm here. I presume I don't need to explain to you what a Celestial Nail is, yes?"

Kokomi's eyebrows furrowed, folding her hands in front of her to rest her chin on them, expression thoughtful.

"…that sounds familiar. That's the name for the spike that's been hovering over Dragonspine in Mondstadt for a few years now, right?" Then, before Miko could answer, Kokomi's eyes widened again, her clearly-racing mind putting the pieces together before Miko had to walk her through it.

"Wait. You're saying Tsurumi Island has a Celestial Nail?"

"Indeed. You've always been rather sharp, little Kokomi," she said, the praise quickly waved away. "Not only that, however, but it is… misbehaving." Miko's tone took on a note of disdain, as though she were annoyed by the mere implication of something acting out of order in her nation — perhaps she was.

"Misbehaving… in what sense?" Kokomi asked, and Miko could tell from the look on her face — the burgeoning resignation beginning to settle on her features — that she'd already mostly figured out the purpose of the meeting.

"That's why I'm here. As I told our delightful little Traveler before arriving—" Miko bit back a teasing remark at the way Kokomi's features shifted minutely at the mention of the Traveler, "—I could sense a faint energy coming from it, but I am unfamiliar with it. I believe you have a better chance of recognizing it than I do."

Silence fell between them for a moment — already, Miko could see Kokomi's features shifting into quiet consideration, eyebrows furrowed and gaze fixated on nothing in particular, clearly deep in thought. She snapped out of it before Miko had to say anything, however.

"If something like that is acting out, then I'd be irresponsible to not investigate. Especially if it's something I might recognize. I'll need to summon Gorou and let him know he's responsible for keeping things under control while I'm gone—"

"Oh, please," Miko cut in, waving a hand dismissively. "I'll have you there and back before anyone even notices you're gone." The casual response only made Kokomi huff in frustration, shaking her head.

"It'd be incredibly irresponsible—"

"Don't worry so much," Miko interrupted once more. "Unless you're doubting my capabilities, little Kokomi?"

Kokomi paused, biting her lip, seeing the trap that she'd fallen into. Sighing, she shook her head again.

"…okay, fine. As long as it's quick." Her acquiescence made Miko smile, smug and self-satisfied, before standing up, performatively dusting off her outfit and holding a hand out for Kokomi to take. She paused, eyeing Miko skeptically — when all she received was a raised eyebrow from Miko, she slowly got to her feet, settling her own delicate hand inside of Miko's.

"Now, I'm no Traveler, but I'll be able to get us there quickly. Hold on tight, mm? Though, maybe not too tight," she teased, snickering at the faint blush settling across Kokomi's features once more.

With that, she drew up the power of Electro within herself, and the two of them disappeared from Kokomi's office with the sound of soft, distant thunder.

Coursing through the air on bolts of lightning, Miko's grip on Kokomi's hand was unyielding, effortlessly guiding them across the ocean separating Watatsumi and Tsurumi Island — before long, only a matter of moments later, the two of them had landed firmly on the shore of the latter, meters away from the Statue of the Seven.

The moment they reappeared from amongst the cloud of Electro, Kokomi pulled her hand back to rest it on her head, groaning quietly — Miko didn't bother stifling a chuckle at her disorientation, lightly patting her shoulder.

"There, there. Take your time, little Kokomi. We're only trying to determine the fate of the world, but that can wait for you to recover."

The snide, pointed remark elicited a muted glare from Kokomi, to which Miko merely offered a raised eyebrow and an amused twitch of her lips — it didn't take Kokomi very long to recover perhaps out of spite, or perhaps something else. Dusting off the residual sparks of Electro clinging to the folds of her ceremonial garb, she finally turned her attention up to the rest of Tsurumi Island. Miko, however, kept her eyes squarely on Kokomi.

She watched the Divine Priestess search the horizon with furrowed eyebrows and a cute little pout, and saw the moment she noticed the spire of light above Mount Kanna, her expression going slack, eyes wide, mouth opening in surprise. Slowly, her head turned upwards, and Miko nodded at the quick glance Kokomi shot in her direction, pearl-like gaze flicking rapidly between Miko and the four-pointed star punched into the sky.

"…I see why this is a concern," Kokomi said, somewhat lamely.

"Indeed. I believe the more information we have, and the quicker we gather it, the better. Otherwise…" she let the sentence trail off, Kokomi's expression turning grim at the implication.

"I'll see if I can sense anything out of the ordinary," she said, firmly, and knelt down into the sand, resting a hand palm-down against the shore, her eyes sliding closed. Miko, uncharacteristically quiet, carefully observed Kokomi, taking in every detail of her — the slight twitches of her features, the stillness with which she carried herself. Even without trying, she could sense the sickly sweet energy wafting off of the Nail buried within the earth, leaving her with little doubt that Kokomi would be able to sense it, too.

It'd be terribly disappointing if she couldn't, having spent all this time getting to know her. She had so much potential…

After a minute or two, though, Miko decided she needed some prodding.

"Well, little Kokomi?" she prompted, breaking the silence. "What do you think?"

There was no immediate response, the Divine Priestess's eyes shut tightly, intently focused where she knelt. It didn't take very long for her to come back to reality, though — after only a few more seconds, Kokomi slowly blinked her eyes open, gaze gleaming in the darkness of the night. She got to her feet, dusting the sand off of her outfit, and Miko didn't need to be as good at reading people as she was to spot the concerned twist of her lips, the twitch in her eyebrow that gave away how disconcerted she was.

"I… mm. I know what it is. I can't explain how it's happening, but I know what it is," she said, grimly.

"Well?" Miko prompted once more, eyebrows raising, and Kokomi bit her lip, before turning her head to focus solely on Miko, intense gaze fixated on her face.

"What do you know about vishaps, Miko?"

Shinji, for lack of anything else to do, found himself observing the Dendro Archon in her element.

He leaned against one of the support pillars holding up the roof of the Sanctuary of Surasthana's pavilion, deep blue gaze locked onto Nahida — the Dendro Archon stood in the middle of the pavilion, hovering inches above her "bed", a series of light green terminal windows surrounding her, each displaying its own visual or dataset.

Six of the windows were grouped with each other, arranged in a vaguely hexagonal formation, displaying all six Celestial Nails in Teyvat and their corresponding rifts — the Sumeru, Natlan, Liyue, and Inazuma windows were all split screen, each displaying both the rifts and their corresponding underground Nails.

Another grouped set of windows displayed the levels of Light Realm energy in each region of Teyvat, mapped out over the past several years.

Finally, the window actively holding her attention—

"Candace, Dehya," she piped up in her high-pitched voice. "I'm attaching the visual I currently have on the rift above Mount Damavand. Are there any discrepancies? Anything you see with your own eyes that I can't observe myself?"

There was a moment of silence, the two on the other end of the call looking away from the window to stare at something off-screen, before Candace turned back to face Nahida and shook her head.

"No, Dendro Archon. In fact, it looks like you can see more than we can — it's difficult for us to approach, given the distance, not to mention the sandstorm."

"Tch," Shinji muttered, rolling his eyes. "Here I thought the Traveler knew what she was doing when she said she had that handled," he grumbled to himself, and though Nahida was occupied, she still flicked a mote of Dendro in his direction — a clear, albeit unspoken, "I hear you, and you're being unreasonable."

"Okay, good. In that case, should needs arise, you'll be free to—" she was interrupted by the sound of a gentle, but insistent, ringing, and without hesitating, she opened another terminal window, directly next to the one displaying Candace and Dehya. It flickered to life, displaying Al-Haitham and Cyno on the opposite end, clearly also in the desert.

"Buer," Cyno began without preamble, "the device you gave us is functioning. It looks like it's sending the data to you now."

"Ah, wonderful! Thank you, you two," she chirped, surprisingly upbeat, given the circumstances — a flick of her hand had the windows readjusting so that the call windows were arranged vertically, and a new data window opened alongside the call. This one displayed another graph, showing a real-time line overlayed over the Light Realm energy data.

The current line was much, much higher than the historical data.

Shinji frowned at the sight of it — while he wasn't entirely certain what it meant, it clearly spelled bad news. Nahida, though, was unruffled, nodding to herself before swiping the window to the side to drag the call windows back into place.

"Okay, that's pretty much what I was expecting," she confirmed.

"Not to question the Dendro Archon's wisdom," Al-Haitham chimed in dryly, making Shinji snort, "but why did we have to go out here? Candace and Dehya are also in the desert, and you can use the ley lines to travel."

Seemingly delighted by the question, Nahida giggled, flashing a smile towards the window containing Al-Haitham and Cyno.

"You know, Al-Haitham, it used to be, in ancient times, those seeking information from the divine would offer knowledge of equal value."

"I'm noticing that you didn't answer the question, Buer," he responded, and when all Nahida did was wink in reply, he simply rolled his eyes.

"Anyway," Dehya chimed in from the other window, giving Nahida a curious look, "Cyno — I think that was Cyno, right? — said something about a device? What's going on, Lesser Lord Kusanali?"

Finally, Nahida's expression grew more solemn, and Shinji found himself leaning in closer — he, too, was curious, what with all of the commotion.

"Imagine, Dehya, that you're a warden in charge of a prison." The seeming nonsequitur didn't faze Shinji, nor any of the others in the call — they were all used to Nahida's idiosyncrasies at this point. "One day, you find a flaw in your security, one that requires external hardware to solve. What do you do?"

The woman in question blinked.

"…well, I mean, I get that hardware to fix it, right?"

"Of course, because your primary goal is to ensure those inside the prison stay inside. However, eventually, your prisoners grow tired of being imprisoned. So, one day, you wake up, and you discover that the hardware has been sabotaged."

At that, Shinji stepped into the conversation himself.

"Buer, you mean to say that someone managed to sabotage the Celestial Nails?"

Sighing, Nahida dragged over the data windows next to the call windows and motioned for Shinji to step over — carefully, he maneuvered to view all of it at once, absently noting the polite nods he got from Al-Haitham, Cyno, and Candace, as well as the wave from Dehya.

"It was sort of a flawed metaphor, and for that, I apologize. Much of my thoughts are occupied elsewhere, but I believe it illustrates the point as well as any. Cyno and Al-Haitham have stationed on Mount Damavand a device of my own creation, designed to monitor spikes in output of Light Realm energy from discrete sources, as opposed to the usual levels permeating all of the Human Realm."

Shinji, out of the corner of his eye, saw Dehya mouth the words "Light Realm?" towards Candace, who merely shrugged.

"The moment the Nails of Retribution altered their behavior, I had a hunch about what the result would be, though I'm still working on determining what the cause is. I'm filtering through all the information I receive through Aaru, but, as I'm sure you can imagine, it's quite a lot." Something about Nahida's tone caught on Shinji's ear, and his eyes narrowed, but he didn't press.

"…don't worry about it. You'll figure it out," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear, scoffing quietly at the grateful smile he got in return.

"All of this said," Nahida said, shaking her head and rallying her spirits, "Candace, Dehya, keep an eye on the rift and let me know if anything changes."

"Understood, boss!" Dehya quipped, tossing in a salute for good measure, making Candace chuckle.

"Of course, Lesser Lord Kusanali. We will contact you again if anything comes up." Candace said, and with that, the terminal window containing Candace and Dehya winked out of existence, dissipating into motes of lime green light that flickered out.

"I presume you need us to stay here just in case, Buer?" Cyno's voice drew her attention to the other window, and she offered a smile alongside her nod.

"It's vitally important that the device keeps running so I can get enough data to have a reference point for our new normal, so to speak. It's very fragile, and I need both of you there just in case something goes wrong. Not that I expect anything will, but it always pays to be overprepared!"

"In that case, we'll leave you to it, Buer." Al-Haitham's voice chimed in from where he'd moved off-screen at some point. "Let's get comfortable, Cyno. We'll be here a while, I'm sure."

"Sure," he said, before turning his attention back to Nahida. "Good night, Buer, Hat Guy." Before Shinji could retort with a scathing remark about his use of the name, Cyno closed the call, the second terminal window winking out of existence as well, in much the same manner as the first.

"I am so tired of hearing that stupid nickname," he grumbled, and Nahida offered a wan, albeit tinged with amusement, smile.

"I would've expected you to be used to it by now, Shinji," she said, even as she swiped through the various windows, looking over the multitude of data available to her.

"No thanks. It doesn't help that you and the Traveler insist on popularizing it wherever you can." Nahida shot him an innocent look, clearly too innocent, and Shinji huffed out an annoyed breath — thankfully for her, though, he recalled that something he'd noticed before, that quirk of her tone, and now that they were without an audience, saw his opportunity to inquire further.

"Anyway. You lied to those four about something. What's actually going on?"

Shinji could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen Nahida look guilty — this was the fourth. She fidgeted where she floated, biting her lip, before swiping one of the windows out of the way to look up at him, meeting his eyes.

"It's… complicated. I hate omitting information from others, but I don't want them to worry needlessly, either," she said slowly, almost beseeching him to understand — unfazed, he waved a hand, shrugging.

"Sure, that sounds like something you'd do. You and your soft heart. Talk to me, then. What's happening?" The flatness of his tone seemed to simultaneously reassure her and agitate her further, though she didn't acknowledge that fact.

She hesitated, but only briefly. With an outstretched hand, Dendro gathered around her palm, before extending in a projection of a window held above her hand, high enough that both her and Shinji could observe the events playing out upon the projection, a display of events that had passed through Aaru in recent times.

Namely, the death of Death itself.

Shinji's eyebrows rose higher and higher up his forehead, surprise settling in his chest upon watching the Ruler of Death fade away into nothingness, and the Nail in Snezhnaya crack into pieces.

When the recording ended, a pall of silence fell over the duo.

After a healthy pause, Nahida sighed and waved away the window once more, turning her attention back to Shinji — he wasn't sure what the expression on his face was, but it clearly couldn't have been good, based on the way Nahida's grew more solemn.

"I'm still working on what this might mean. I've yet to be able to discuss it with the Traveler, but my guess based on what I could observe is that Ronova's authority was taken away, and she was defeated afterwards. As to how she altered the Nails' function…"

She sighed, glancing away to look at nothing in particular.

"A story for another day. The ultimate priority should be working around it."

Eventually, Shinji managed to nod, frowning, putting the pieces together in his mind.

"That's what you asked the architect guy, Kaveh, for help with. You really think a human will be able to figure out how to counteract something the Heavenly Principles had to resort to using Celestial Nails to fix?" His tone positively dripped with skepticism, and Nahida couldn't help but laugh quietly, hovering up to tap his forehead with a finger.

"You shouldn't discount the power of human imagination and ingenuity, Shinji! I mean, you should know that better than anybody, right? After everything all of you accomplished during the Irminsul crisis…" she left the sentence hanging, though Shinji got the point. Begrudgingly.

"…sure, I guess that makes sense. Though… we still had help from the divine in various ways."

Nahida merely grinned, floating back down, and gestured towards herself, sticking her tongue out, causing him to roll his eyes and flick her in the forehead.

"Yeah, yeah, okay, I get it. You're infallible and everything." The snark, though it didn't have much heat behind it, did its job of piercing through Nahida's intransigent optimism.

"Well… okay, you got me, I was being a little flippant. It's not a problem anyone would be able to fix alone, whether they be human or divine. But, Kaveh and I aren't alone! Though…" She trailed off, biting her lip, and Shinji, despite his lack of a human nervous or skeletal system, felt a chill run down his metaphorical spine.

"What is it?" he asked, resigned, and Nahida rubbed the back of her neck, looking over at the rest of the windows circling the center of the Sanctuary.

"I'm going to need to talk to Apep."

"…You're kidding."

Citlali's voice was openly skeptical, sky blue gaze wide and disbelieving, and Mavuika almost laughed in her face.

Almost. Thankfully, she managed to bite it back.

"I'm not, no." Mavuika snickered to herself, gesturing up towards the star-shaped gap in space looming above them. "That right there, that's because Tumaini took down Ronova. She said herself — well, Paimon did, and she nodded along, which is good enough for me — that it's Ronova's revenge, so it seems pretty open and shut to me."

Citlali, stunned silent, ran her hand over her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. Mavuika patiently waited for her to overcome her surprise, eyebrows raising when a growl slowly bubbled out of her. It rapidly built up to a groan, then a frustrated explosion of sound, Citlali stomping her foot against the ground, somewhere between aggravation and petulance.

"Oh, come on! She runs off to Snezhnaya and immediately makes an enemy out of the Ruler of Death?! After she promised me she'd be more responsible! Ugh!"

"If it's any comfort," Mavuika soothed, all while trying not to laugh, "she had pretty capable backup, from what I heard. The Director of the Fatui Harbingers isn't someone to trifle with, I'm sure you can imagine. Not to mention, well, when you're a Descender, married to the Trilune Goddess…" Mavuika let the statement hang in the air, pausing at the look on Citlali's face.

She almost seemed to have deflated, annoyance evaporated into thin air — her shoulders slumped, and Mavuika's amused smile faded, replaced with sympathy, her touch gentle, a warm hand on one of Citlali's shoulders.

"Hey, it's okay," she said softly, each syllable a careful, cautious brush of comfort. "I won't pretend like I know what happened between you two, but it's clear that you care for her, and she cares for you. It doesn't have to be any more complicated than that."

No verbal response was immediately forthcoming — for a few moments, Citlali stared off into space, before she huffed out an annoyed breath through her nose.

"Easy for you to say, Mavuika. You're not the one who has to be reminded of her everywhere you go! Ugh… whatever. It's not important. You called me all the way out here to scan the rift, right?"

Briefly, Mavuika considered pressing the issue. After her eyes caught on the burgeoning twitch of Citlali's eye, however — a sign that she was genuinely irked — she decided to drop it, merely inclining her head.

"Alright then. Let's get this out of the way so I can get back home. I have a novel to finish."

There were a multitude of things that Mavuika admired about Citlali, and her no-nonsense attitude, her reliability, that was foremost on the list. It was at times like this that she considered herself the luckiest Archon — not because of her position, or the power she had, or even the social benefits, but instead, the people. She loved each and every Natlani, cherished their dedication to their home, and Citlali was no exception.

Despite the circumstances, Mavuika found herself smiling softly upon stepping back from the edge of the little wooden platform overlooking the Stadium of the Sacred Flame. Citlali was quick to take the spot where she'd been standing, eyes closing and hands glowing with magical power.

"You're lucky you've got me," Citlali muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Mavuika to hear. "I doubt any other shaman could get a read on this stupid thing."

"True, we are very lucky," Mavuika said, amusement settling on her face at the eyeroll visible even behind closed eyelids.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You can make it up to me by paying for my drinks after."

Before Mavuika could reply, Citlali raised her hands to the sky. Not wanting to interrupt her flow, Mavuika took a couple silent steps back and merely observed, taking in with intrigued eyes the magic wafting off of her hands, swirling and pulsing with iridescent light, shimmering with sparkling motes of magical energy. She was only vaguely familiar with the work of the Masters of the Night-Wind — enough to sound like she knew what she was talking about, that is — but the depth of the magic on display, its intricacies and the slow, cautious motions of Citlali's fingers, as though she were weaving a tapestry of intangible light, filled her with even more respect for the arts than she already had.

Crossing her arms, Mavuika leaned back against the stone wall surrounding the roof of the building they stood upon. She watched Citlali's magic extend towards the star-shaped hole in the sky — the distance too great for Mavuika's eyes to follow it the whole way, she let her gaze flick back to Citlali herself instead.

Her eyebrows went up when Citlali mumbled an annoyed growl under her breath, and she briefly feared that something had gone wrong, though when Citlali remained upright and in motion, she decided against attempting to intervene.

Only moments later, the magic surrounding Citlali's hands faded away into flickers of multicolored light that then disappeared completely. She lowered her arms, eyes fluttering open, and ran a hand through her hair, mussing it further out of its already ruffled state.

"Well?" Mavuika prompted, standing back up from where she'd been leaning and making her way over to Citlali's side, the woman in question staring up at the rift in consternation.

"I wasn't able to get much," she groused, "but I got enough that I can tell what's going on. Vaguely, anyway. At the very least, I've learned enough to know I'm the wrong person for dealing with this."

"Explain, please. For those of us who aren't magically gifted," Mavuika quipped, causing Citlali to level a flat look in her direction.

Sighing, Citlali stepped back from the edge of the platform, settling onto the stone roof behind them.

"Essentially, that thing up in the sky is like… a big terraforming nightmare. It's pouring out unfiltered Light Realm energy, it's like if Phlogiston was dialed all the way to max. Bad news for pretty much everybody. Including saurians." Her tone grim, Citlali's gaze wandered up to the horizon, where, in the distance, another spire of light, and another rift, looming over the Sumeru desert.

"If I had to guess," she continued, "I'd say that it's the same everywhere else, too."

Bringing her hand up to her chin, Mavuika's thoughts raced with this new information. Ideas and plans abound, her lips turned downward into a thoughtful frown.

It sounded familiar, though she couldn't quite put her finger on where she'd heard it from. She found herself pacing back and forth across the diameter of the roof, vaguely aware of Citlali's eyes following her, until she alighted upon an idea that she saw potential in.

Stalling in place, she lifted her head to look over at Citlali, eyebrows furrowed.

"You said it's similar to Phlogiston, yes?"

"Uh, well, I mean, that's sort of oversimplifying, but—"

"We can focus on the details after we get all the tribes together," Mavuika interrupted, shaking her head. "For right now, what's important is coming up with something to keep everyone safe until we get everything figured out. So, in the meantime, if it's similar to Phlogiston, perhaps we could suppress the effect by using that same Phlogiston? Through engravings, maybe?"

Citlali blinked, her mouth opening, closing, then opening again. She looked over at the rift, then back at Mavuika, expression perplexed.

"I… guess? That might be theoretically possible? I'm sort of out of my element here, Mavuika. You'd be better off asking Xilonen, if you can get her to not throw something at you for bringing her another impossible project."

Waving a hand dismissively, Mavuika smiled, confident.

"I wouldn't worry about that too much. It's necessary for the sake of not only Natlan, but the entirety of Teyvat — if we can figure this out, it'll be a good first step towards fixing the problem everywhere."

"Yeah, well, your funeral," Citlali mumbled, which Mavuika tactfully pretended not to hear.

Instead, she straightened up from where she'd been considering her thoughts, stretching languidly and letting out a sigh.

"It's as good a start as any. I'll reach out to the other Archons and see if they've come up with any information we don't have, so that should help, too. Though, in the meantime…"

Snapping her fingers, a motorcycle helmet formed out of flames and dropped into her hand, which she extended to Citlali. Almost instantly, the shaman backed away, holding up her hands defensively, a bead of nervous sweat rolling down her temple.

"Hey, no way, I'm way too old for that kind of thing! You may be able to rope everybody else into your reckless stunts, but no way am I—"

"Drinks are on me," Mavuika interrupted, tilting her head towards the Stadium of Sacred Flame.

Citlali stopped, hands lowering minutely, and she bit her lip, seemingly genuinely considering it. Mavuika could see — before she actually spoke — when she'd made the decision, just from the resignation settling onto her features, the tension gathering in her shoulders. She shot a longing look in the direction of her home, vaguely west, before sighing and snapping the helmet out from Mavuika's grasp.

"…fine. But you're carrying me home. Citlalin deserves the rest," she griped, sliding the helmet on even as Mavuika laughed, nodding.

"Of course, like I'd make you walk home alone." As she spoke, her motorbike formed out of flames at her side, fire gathering and coalescing into the shape of the motorcycle and solidifying into solid, sturdy metal. Easily, effortlessly, she swung her leg over it, settling into her seat, and she gestured with her head for Citlali to hop on behind her.

She offered a reassuring smile when Citlali hesitated, taking on a note of smug satisfaction when Citlali settled in behind her. She was remarkably light, weight almost unnoticeable against Mavuika's back, and Mavuika popped on her own helmet with one hand, taking hold of the handlebars with the other.

"You ready, Citlali?" she asked, revving the engine.

"Uh— w-wait, what am I supposed to—" she started to ask, words quickly transforming into a startled screech and her arms wrapping tightly around Mavuika's torso when the bike shot off, Mavuika laughing exuberantly as they caught a remarkable amount of air, soaring down towards the stadium.

"MAVUIKAAAAAA—!"

"Your Majesty."

Anastasya's eyes remained trained on the distant horizon of eastern Snezhnaya, even as she nodded in acknowledgement of Pierro's arrival. He settled in at her side, the two of them standing at the railing surrounding Zapolyarny Palace — silence weighed over them heavily, the queasy feeling of an uneasy success filling the air between them.

Arms folded behind her back, Anastasya, after a few moments, pulled her eyes away, frigid gaze focusing on Pierro. At her side, he continued staring at the horizon, at that distant four-pointed star punched through the sky.

"I presume you have something to report, Pierro."

"Yes, Your Majesty," he said, voice low and rumbling. "Our scouts from the Druzhna have returned from investigating the… anomaly."

"Hm."

At first, the little sound of acknowledgement was the only response Pierro received — he glanced over at her, finding her expression as closed off as always.

To her, it seemed rather obvious what had happened, although it was always better to have all of the information before beginning to act. Her fingernails lightly tapped the sides of her arms, still folded behind her back, her thoughts percolating through her mind slow, steady, the creeping pace of a glacier against the earth.

"Walk with me." The words left no room to argue, nor did she expect him to. The two of them slowly began to stride away from the railing, her heels clicking softly against the cool stone walkway.

Momentary silence lingered between them once more, Anastasya's sharp gaze catching on the almost unsure look in Pierro's eyes — if she were the type, she might have laughed. She wasn't.

"What did they find?" she finally asked. Pierro cleared his throat, as though preparing to recite something from a report.

"Much of our technology didn't register any changes. No upticks in detectable radiation, outside of the glow from the visible light segment of the electromagnetic spectrum. Additionally, the… rift, for lack of a better word, completely fails to show up on any of our scans. However." He sighed, reaching into his coat and retrieving a sheaf of papers, which he quickly flicked through. Anastasya, patient as always, merely remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"Our major discoveries are twofold. The first is that the Nail of Retribution is physically damaged and appears to be mere weeks from crumbling apart completely."

At that, Anastasya's eyebrows rose, and the air around her grew noticeably colder.

"…the consequences of that would be disastrous." Her voice, level as always, nevertheless betrayed a certain steel, an underlying thread of staring down the barrel of a gun and refusing to flinch. Pierro, unfazed by the change in temperature, grimaced, nodding in agreement.

"In fact, it would be far worse than most could imagine. I trust you are aware of the circumstances by which the Nail came about, Your Majesty."

"Mmh." she nodded, and Pierro continued.

"The Holy Soil it was suppressing is likely going to experience a resurgence. Regrettably, we have already observed its effects occurring in real time — our elemental resonance scans have shown a noticeable uptick in output spread evenly across the spectrum, too uniform to be anything but Light Realm energy. Additionally…" he trailed off, flicking through the papers in his hand before continuing, "…we've confirmed the readings to be the same as we observed during the Inazuman Civil War, from the Fair Lady's forces on Watatsumi Island."

"I see," she murmured, features tightening almost imperceptibly — she knew, deep in her gut, that this was Ronova's doing. The timing was too perfect. A small stepping stone towards their true goal, and yet, if this hurdle wasn't dealt with…

"Unfortunately, that's not all, Your Majesty," Pierro's voice drew her out of her thoughts. Motioning with a hand for him to continue, he cleared his throat once more. "Setting aside the obvious visual evidence, we've confirmed via the same instruments that not only is the Holy Soil already in the area surging, but the Nail is actually creating more."

That stalled Anastasya in her tracks. She stopped walking, turning her head to face Pierro, expression unreadable.

"…The Nail of Retribution has been altered?" Though her voice remained the same as always, an undercurrent of incredulity thrummed through it.

"Indeed," Pierro grumbled, and Anastasya frowned, just barely.

The implications were vast, and for a moment, she considered the possibility that the Heavenly Principles had awoken — immediately after having the thought, though, she discarded it. She knew very well that if they had, Snezhnaya would have already found out through much more brutal, barbaric methods. In light of that, though, another thought occurred to her, her lips drawing into a thin line.

"Move a Mirror of Remembrance into the area and determine what, exactly, happened. If we are to establish a course of action for preventing calamity, the cause must first be known."

Pierro was quick to nod, and the two of them continued walking, the tension of the moment not quite as present — still there, just not drawn tight, a bowstring prepared to snap.

Yet another thought settled at the forefront of Anastasya's mind, and she breathed out a displeased sound.

"Given the fact that there are currently five other rifts in the sky, I believe it fair to assume that the same issue is plaguing the other nations," she said, not quite a question, but Pierro offered a sound in the affirmative all the same.

"Even asleep," she continued, voice laced with disdain, "the Heavenly Principles insist on pressing a blade to our throats. We will simply have to make them regret drawing their weapon to begin with."

"Indeed, Your Majesty." At that, one of Anastasya's ears flicked, catching on a subtle note in Pierro's voice — her gaze flicked over to him, curious, suspicious, and she took in a multitude of details all at once. The subtle limp with which he walked, the bags under his visible eye, the faint, barely-there purple tinge to his veins, coursing up from his right hand…

"Pierro." The firmness of her tone caught his attention, more than their conversation already had, and he stood at attention, her mouth twisting in muted displeasure.

"You are still supposed to be resting. Are you not?" Her words elicited a barely-there flinch, and she didn't bother attempting to stifle the annoyed sigh that brushed past her lips. "Go. This is an order."

"I… of course, Your Majesty," he acquiesced, nodding his head. Though, before moving at all, he flipped through the sheaf of papers, frowning slightly at what he saw — one of Anastasya's eyebrows raised, and he cleared his throat once more, turning his head up to face her.

"I apologize, Your Majesty, but before I take my leave, there is one more thing." He shuffled the papers to put the relevant one on top before continuing, "According to Miss Chayka… you have a message, too classified for anyone but you and I."

Curious. Anastasya's interest piqued, she tilted her head slightly. "From whom?"

"Well…" he paused for a moment, glancing at the page, before looking back at her. "The Dendro Archon."

"…is that so." A statement, not a question, giving Pierro pause. She narrowed her eyes at the paper in his hands — she couldn't say she was very tempted, though she supposed it'd be foolish to spurn potentially valuable information.

Plus, admittedly, there was a part of her that was curious about what it was the little Archon had to say.

"Mmh. Alright. I would be remiss if I did not at least hear her out." Holding out her hand, Pierro was quick to offer her the note — even as she dismissed him with a curt, though not impolite, nod, her gaze raked over the words printed on the paper.

Good evening, Madam Tsaritsa!

As you will have heard, I am the Dendro Archon. Most refer to me as Lesser Lord Kusanali, or Buer, though my friends call me Nahida. I would be truly honored to count you among that number!

To that end, I come to you with a gesture of friendship. I offer, without expectation or reservation, my knowledge of what has occurred regarding the Nails of Retribution. Embedded within this letter, activated upon your touch and the recitation of a codeword, is a memory copied from Aaru, displaying the events that have led us here, so that we may operate together on a level playing field.

I truly hope that we may join hands and collaborate to ensure the safety of all those who call Teyvat their home. There is nothing we cannot overcome, so long as we do so together.

Your codeword is "Hyperborea"!

With sincerest affections,

Nahida, the Blessed One of Wisdom, Mahakusaladhamma

P.S. Thank you for welcoming my First Sage into your court. She was very worried about you — in her words — turning her into a Travelersicle, hehe. One less weight off of her mind is a net positive for everybody!

Scoffing at the unbridled optimism pouring from every word the Dendro Archon had written, Anastasya couldn't help but be skeptical. She'd long since learned to be cautious of "gifts" without strings attached — though, utilizing her elemental sight through narrowed eyes, all she found was the promised Dendro holding the memory in place.

She deliberated on it carefully. From what she knew of the Dendro Archon, she didn't seem duplicitous, but then, those with such advanced intelligence hardly ever allowed themselves to. Glancing down at the paper once more, her eyes caught on the mention of the Traveler, and her corresponding title.

If the Traveler trusted her, to the extent of operating as her Sage… that was likely a good sign on its own. For the moment, she and the Traveler were aligned — and indeed, any enemy of her enemy was best considered a friend, for the time being.

Her mind made up, Anastasya folded up the paper into thirds and tucked it against her side, slow and deliberate footsteps carrying her back into the palace. Head held high, long strides brought her into her private chambers, only pausing at the doorway for long enough to look over at one of the Druzhna sitting by the door.

"Lozkaya," she ordered firmly. "I am to receive no visitors, and nobody is to be admitted into the Palace until I say so."

"Yes, Your Majesty!" The Druzhna snapped to attention and saluted, only running off to share the order with the rest of the guards after Anastasya had nodded and entered her chambers.

Letting out a slow breath, she crossed the room and settled into her chair behind her desk, unfolding the paper carefully — moving aside her journal for the time being, the note from Nahida took prominence amongst the various papers scattered along the surface of the table. Her gaze pierced into it, Anastasya carefully preparing herself to memorize every detail of the embedded memory, and after that momentary pause, she rested her palms upon it.

"Hyperborea," she said clearly, and everything went black.

The memory was short, but enlightening. Anastasya watched from the side as Ronova used the power of the Eitr — that damned Hyperborean nightmare — to alter the Nail of Retribution above the Cryo Sovereign's corpse, before fading out of existence, slowly and painfully.

It was little comfort, but Anastasya had never sought comfort, anyway.

She blinked her eyes back open slowly after the memory faded, frowning to herself, but before she could move, her eyes caught on a new addition to the note from the Dendro Archon.

P.P.S. I am doing my own research into how to address this "Eitr", but even with my capabilities, there is only so much information I can find. Your cooperation would be greatly appreciated, and would help address the threat not only to Snezhnaya's people, but the people of Teyvat as a whole.

Anastasya clutched the paper in her hands, staring almost through it, carefully weighing the pros and cons in her mind — the Eitr was, as proven, a remarkably dangerous tool in the wrong hands, and yet, with it aimed against them, perhaps some risks were necessary. Her thoughts raced, before finally, she settled on a course of action, nodding firmly to herself and getting to her feet. She strode out through the door and across the main room of the Palace, coming to a stop in front of Chayka.

The little fae looked up at her, alert, and she, her jaw set, began the first step of her plan.

"Chayka. Send a summons to the Traveler. Relay that it is urgent," she said, cool, composed.

"Of course, Your Majesty." Chayka nodded and wrote down the order on her clipboard, in shorthand that likely only she could interpret.

"Additionally, ensure that I am not disturbed for the next three days, unless it is truly vital. I have personal matters to attend to."

Nodding again, Chayka added to the notes on her board — satisfied with her responsiveness, Anastasya turned on her heel and walked out of the Palace.

She had information to gather.

Softly, Columbina hummed to herself — her own gentle melody, the same one she'd sung to herself since her creation, the tune that she'd come to associate with her closest friends, her family, her wives. It never failed to lift her spirits — not that she was in particular need of her spirits to be raised in the first place, but it was also her favorite song.

The lilting notes, gentle and ethereal, followed her journey downward into Silvermoon Hall, her body floating through the air, a dove drifting on invisible air currents. Carefully, she touched down on solid ground, right next to the teleport waypoint the Traveler always used to enter. Part of her hoped that she'd be in today, miraculously standing by the waypoint to greet her, but, alas, there was a conspicuously Traveler-shaped absence in the entryway of the Hall.

Continuing to hum to herself, she drifted into the Hall itself, each delicate footstep accompanied by the soft, comforting sound of distant chimes, tinkling in the air as ephemerally as the woman herself had once been.

Absently, she took in her surroundings through closed eyes via her kuuvahki, while most of her thoughts remained occupied by how she'd spend the rest of her day — that is, until her senses were shorted out by a very bright, very familiar burning spirit, a golden flame, perpetually lit by a will from beyond the world.

Unable to stop herself from smiling, Columbina warped space around herself as casually as she breathed to appear next to the Traveler where she'd been sitting against the large crescent moon taking up most of the space in the hall.

"Lumine! I wasn't expecting you to—" Columbina began to say, though she was interrupted by Lumine pulling her into a warm, tight embrace. Her eyes fluttered open, arms slowly wrapping around Lumine, and she murmured a surprised little "oh!" before settling into her arms, sighing out a pleased, content breath.

"Hi, sweetheart," Lumine mumbled into Columbina's shoulder, and something about the way she said it caused Columbina to frown. Just barely, but still present.

"…Lumine? Is everything okay?"

She tried to pull away to look Lumine in the eyes, to no avail — she squeaked at Lumine's arms tightening around her, keeping her from escaping.

"…depends on your definition of 'okay'."

Blinking slowly, not unlike a cat, Columbina's arms tightened around Lumine in return, concern settling onto her features.

"What's going on? I thought you were supposed to be in Snezhnaya," she said softly, stifling an involuntary giggle at the tickling sensation of Lumine huffing out a breath against her neck.

"Um, well…" At that, she pulled away a little, and Columbina got a glimpse of Lumine's expression — worried, in a way that she often wasn't, and more than a little exhausted. "…I guess I should start by asking, have you seen the, y'know, stuff happening across Teyvat? The weird rifts in the sky?"

Her eyebrows furrowed, iridescent eyes glancing up toward the surface, seeing through the rock as easily as one looked through a sheet of glass — on the opposite side, in the sky, shone six star-shaped gaps in space, glimmering like embroidered fabric where they innocently floated above the spikes that had been sent down by her sisters' murderer, all those centuries ago.

"…I have now. I was on the moon for quite some time, I only just returned. I didn't detect anything out of the ordinary at the time."

"Makes sense," Lumine mumbled, nestling into Columbina's side — carefully, the two of them adjusted so that Lumine's arm was wrapped around Columbina's torso, Columbina's arm looped over Lumine's shoulder, side-by-side in a cozy little cuddle.

A momentary silence fell between them — comfortable, in the way silences often were with those you loved — until Lumine was the one to break it, speaking up quietly.

"I, well, um… I fought Ronova. Head on."

Columbina merely hummed in reply — she knew better than to be concerned about that particular situation. Her wife was a Descender, above every law that the world could set. Death meant nothing to her. And besides, Lumine was obviously still alive.

"Though it's… sort of a long story," Lumine continued. "The short — or, well, shorter — version is, Ronova was interfering with Project Mistilteinn—"

"That was the giant arrow Paimon was so excited about last time you filled me in on your journey, right?" Columbina cut in, and Lumine nodded. Columbina's heart warmed at the sight of the small, fond smile on Lumine's lips — it was endlessly sweet, the way bringing up Paimon never failed to make Lumine soft.

"Yeah, the Anti-Celestia weapon that the Fatui have been working on. She set up a curse to temporarily kill researchers who got too close to useful developments, so I ended up getting involved since, well, there's no love lost between Ronova and I anyway, and I didn't exactly want to make an enemy out of the most powerful people in the nation right off the bat—" she caught herself, sighing, and shook her head. "I'm getting sidetracked."

"It's okay," Columbina hummed. "Sometimes the most circuitous path is the most fun."

Despite herself, Lumine smiled softly, leaning over to press a kiss to Columbina's nose — Columbina felt her face warm, and her own smile widen, but she wouldn't let Lumine distract her.

…Not yet, anyway.

"You were saying something about having to fight Ronova?" Columbina prompted, nuzzling her face up against Lumine's.

"Right, yeah. So, I got roped into the Tsaritsa's plan to take her down, which ended up kind of working, kind of not? The important part is, we didn't get the chance to prepare very much, since we got kind of jumpscared by Ronova midway through. I'm sure Pierro and the Tsaritsa had it planned out, but, to me, it felt a lot like just improvising and hoping for the best."

"That's one of your specialties, though," Columbina quipped from where she'd nestled into Lumine's side, the two of them having switched positions while Lumine was talking. Rolling her eyes, Lumine stuck her tongue out petulantly at Columbina, eliciting a fond giggle from the woman in question.

"You're lucky you're so cute, or I'd make you regret saying that," Lumine jokingly threatened, and Columbina, unfazed, hummed, tilting her head.

"You'd make me regret complimenting you?"

Lumine paused at that, blinking, and she opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

"…you know, I guess it kind of is a compliment, now that you say that. But, for the record, I'm very good at plans!" she exclaimed, and Columbina nodded, letting her eyes slide closed.

"You are, except for when you get bored and decide to throw caution to the wind. Or something unforeseen happens so you end up having to improvise anyway. That happens a lot, from what you've told me."

Grumbling, Lumine poked Columbina in the side, causing her to squeak and squirm in Lumine's grasp, though she didn't actually try to escape. If anything, she felt rather proud of herself for managing to lighten Lumine's mood, even if only slightly.

"Little menace," Lumine groused playfully, Columbina nodding along before leaning up to kiss Lumine's cheek.

"You married me," she said, simply, and Lumine's features melted into something softer, loving.

"Sure did, and it was the best decision I ever made," Lumine said quietly, Columbina's features warming, deeper and softer. It always made her heart flutter when Lumine spoke to her so gently, as though she was the most important thing in the world.

Smiling to herself, gently content, she nestled deeper into Lumine's side, and waited for her to continue. It didn't take very long, Lumine quick to pick up her previous train of thought.

"Mm… anyway. We sorta ended up almost destroying Rankova Zorya, although I guess 'we' is pretty generous, it was mostly just Ronova flattening the place when we pissed her off enough. And by 'we', I mostly mean 'I'."

"It's true, you're very good at making others want to kill you."

Though Columbina couldn't see Lumine's face from where she was nestled into her, she didn't need to in order to tell that she was blinking in confusion.

"…uhh, thanks, I think?" Lumine half-asked, half-said, unsure which she was even trying to do in the first place.

"You're welcome," she said, matter-of-factly.

"I'm going to hope that you're not one of them," Lumine said, vaguely amused, and Columbina shook her head, using the arm wrapped around Lumine's torso to squeeze her gently.

"Of course not. You would know if you were. I don't think Sandrone or I would have married you if we wanted to kill you."

"Phew. Close one," Lumine quipped, and Columbina hummed, tilting her head to rest on Lumine's chest. "But yeah, uh… Ronova ended up killing all of us, though, obviously, it didn't stick. I ended up making my own way out of the afterlife, um…" she trailed off, and Columbina tilted her head up to look at her — Lumine's expression was somewhat difficult to read, though Columbina had spent enough time around her to recognize her tells.

Carefully, Columbina shifted so she was resting in Lumine's lap, her hands cupping Lumine's face to guide her focus back up. Her own eyes fluttered open once more, iridescent violet meeting warm, radiant gold, Columbina's thumb lightly grazing over Lumine's cheek.

"What is it?" Columbina prompted, and Lumine offered an abashed, slightly flustered smile — Columbina took endless enjoyment out of the soft flush of Lumine's features beneath her hands, the gentle warming of her skin a unique experience. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Lumine flustered!

"To be honest, the main thing that got me out of there was my memories of you and Sandrone. Paimon, too, and Aether, but…" Lumine paused, shifting to wrap her arms around Columbina's waist, eyes flicking around before locking back onto Columbina's. "…mostly you two. I know the ley lines wouldn't have accepted me anyway, but… I doubt I could've fought anywhere near as hard if it weren't for you two."

The words struck Columbina square in the heart, warming her from the inside out. She smiled, a beaming, radiant expression of pure joy, before leaning forward to capture Lumine's lips with her own.

Lumine let out a surprised noise at the sudden contact, but she was quick to melt into it, her eyes sliding closed — Columbina savored the taste of Lumine's lips, something like a mixture of vanilla and lakkaberries, maybe a little honey, for those brief moments before they separated. Lumine's eyes fluttered back open, and she offered Columbina a lopsided, open-mouthed grin.

"I take it that you're enamored with me being cheesy, then," she said, as though she even needed to speak.

"I'm enamored with your ability to effortlessly be so sweet," Columbina corrected, squishing Lumine's cheeks beneath her palms.

Laughing quietly, Lumine reached up to wrap her hands loosely around Columbina's wrists, moving her hands off of her face — Columbina was quick to move her arms, wrapping them around Lumine's neck instead, shifting her hips to make herself comfortable.

"Do continue your story, please," Columbina murmured, the words filling the air between them, and she almost, almost grinned mischievously at the light tension thrumming through Lumine's muscles, even as she placed her hands on Columbina's hips.

"Little tease," Lumine grumbled goodnaturedly, pulling her in close to rest her head on Columbina's shoulder. "As I was saying, I fought out of the afterlife, and… I'm realizing I didn't mention this, Dain was also there to help. So he and I distracted Ronova for a while, buying enough time for Pierro to finish improving the Delusion to make it powerful enough to use against her. After that, we pretty much just kept her pinned down while the Tsaritsa kept Rhinedottir occupied."

The vaguely familiar name gave Columbina pause.

"Hmm… Rhinedottir… wasn't that one of Dainsleif's friends? Mr. Albedo's mom?" she asked.

"Mmhmm. And the Shade of Life. Also the reason people were getting resurrected after being affected by the Curse of Death." Nodding in understanding, Columbina nuzzled against Lumine's neck, nonverbally requesting she continue. "That meant that nobody could get revived, so having people stay dead for so long caught Celestia's attention, and they tore away Ronova's authority. After that, we just beat her up until she ran away."

"I see…" Columbina murmured, before pulling away to observe Lumine's expression. "Is that what's happening with the Nails? Celestia has been awoken?"

"No, no, I don't think so. At least, not yet. I think if they had been, things would be far, far worse for… pretty much everybody. I'm not exactly sure what's going on, and…" she trailed off, her eyes roaming around the Hall, before sighing and shaking her head. "That's a lot of the reason I'm so worried. If I don't know what's happening, I don't know what can be done to fix it." Her voice took on an almost plaintive note, Lumine's hands fidgeting where they sat on Columbina's hips.

"Hmm… I imagine you're not the only one worried about it. You don't have to be the one solving every problem, Lumine." Columbina's voice remained soft, cupping Lumine's cheek to guide her focus back to Columbina once more. "The time will come where you discover what needs to be done, and you'll do it. Because that's the kind of person you are. You have such a big heart, big enough for the entire world, and you worry too much."

Lumine's expression grew softer, slightly embarrassed, and Columbina leaned in to brush her lips over Lumine's cheek.

"If we need to, we'll figure it out together. That's what family is for."

The slow smile that crept across Lumine's expression was soft, small, but undeniably radiant — Columbina felt her heart flutter at the sight, and she flushed, herself, at the gleam in Lumine's eyes.

"You're perfect, you know that?" Lumine asked, but before Columbina could respond, Lumine pulled Columbina right up against her, wrapping her arms around Columbina's waist and whispering in her ear, "I love you so much."

Giggling, Columbina let out a surprised squeak when Lumine flipped the two of them over, Columbina's back to the flower-covered ground, Lumine looming (hah) over her.

It was a good thing Silvermoon Hall was so far away from civilization.