This is Farewell
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As the two Snezhnayans faded into small figures behind them, Kazuha felt the tightness in his chest relax, letting him breathe again. "Those two sure were full of energy." He looked back again to make sure they weren't following, and to his preference, they weren't.
"You don't like travelling with others, do you? Even when we first met, you were very adamant about letting me join you." Kazuha smiled at the memory, attempting to lighten the mood. "Thinking back on it now, it wasn't all too long ago."
Scara fiddled with his feather necklace, searching for some sort of comfort to get his nerves to relax. Being around people with so much energy brought out the worst in him, and he didn't want to show that side of himself to Kazuha. Not yet.
"I guess you're right." He chuckled as he reflected a smile back at his friend. "To be quite honest, you're the first person to travel with me. I've always been alone when I went on journeys like these," he said as a sigh escaped his mouth, turning his attention to the path ahead.
They had begun to return back to the public grounds with buildings with strong gothic architecture and less room for peasantry. The closer they got to the Tsaritsa's palace, the more people would appear. There were a littering bunch of shops, high-class homes, horse-drawn carriages, and just as wealthy-dressed few with feathered hats and layered dresses.
With each step they took, each stare he felt, Scara's emotions began to overwhelm him once more. He tugged at his necklace and tightened his grip around the charm until his knuckles turned white. He had been under the gaze of so many people more than he would like, but this was so different from the times he would attend balls or important meetings as the prince in Inazuma. Back there, he had power behind his name, even if it all was a feign. Here, he didn't have anything but the clothes he wore to defend him from the ridicule of human judgment.
As they continued past the partings of tall pine trees, the slanted roofs of the Tsaritsa's palace could be seen. The roads grew flat with paved cobblestone and trimmed bushes with radiant flowers appeared on their path. The winter of the mountains standing behind the city had a swirling grey of snow. The Tsaritsa's palace arched into the mountains, grander than the city below it with gothic statues and stretched mosaic windows. A chill blew over Kazuha's shoulders. He didn't sense anything good about the place.
Comparing how the rich Snezhnayans dressed to Scara's attire, Kazuha was certain that where they planned to head was somewhere someone such as he shouldn't stick his nose into. There was a suffocating atmosphere amongst the aristocrats as they paused to stare behind their hand fans or between the slits of their spectacles. What kind of trouble had the swordsman wandered into?
Between the looks the Snezhnayans gave them and the anxiousness Scara displayed, Kazuha, himself, began to get nervous too. There was an impending doom that he felt inching up onto them as they approached the Tsaritsa's palace, but he tried to keep from displaying it.
"Our journey ends soon, doesn't it?" His voice came out gentle, but heavy with a sadness he couldn't mask behind his usual comforting smile. He looked to meet Scara's eyes behind the veil, but looked away before they could be met.
Scara's throat clenched shut when he heard Kazuha speak of the journey coming to a close. He never thought that he would become so close to a mortal once more in his years of existence since he met Niwa. If anything, the relationship that the samurai next to him compared to the people of Scara's past was unrivaled. Kaedehara had become someone he held dear to his hollow chest, where a heart should be, even if he didn't want it to be that way.
From the very beginning, he had been prepared to discard the man once the journey was over, but his emotions still got in the way. He couldn't bear to even take a glance at the other's reaction, and so he didn't. The tension between them rose and he could feel their moments together fade into a bittersweet past. But this is something he waited for.
Freedom.
He finally was going to obtain freedom.
The prince held on tight to his hat as the wind blew strong between them, further separating their bond. He uttered not a word as he took the last few steps forward, the snow crunching under their feet.
Guards dressed with patterns and sigils began to appear alongside the paths that led up to the palace. Some held modified firearms, others with vanguards, and few with crossbows. Flurries of snow flew past them from atop the mountains as if it were warning them to turn back. The dread built up into a complication of emotions for Kazuha. What was it like for Scara to run away from whatever life he had to go straight into a dangerous place such as this?
Stairs could be seen at this point, leading to metal doors that were ice cold. No longer wanting to prolong these bitter feelings, Scara grit his teeth and pace his steps, growing closer to the doors of the Tsaritsa.
When guards before a gate allowed them entry to the Tsaritsa's palace grounds, Kazuha wanted to stop and back away, to tell Scara to stay. He had always travelled alone, so why was it so difficult to let go? This place did not suit a person such as Scara or Kazuha, just as no one with pains and sorrows deserved their suffering.
"This is..." he began speaking, but the cold air froze his words. It was like a dodomeki had stolen his words, leaving Kazuha to stand frozen at the foot of those grey stairs that reminded him of death.
"We've been expecting you," a voice said, his voice low with mystery and bright with knowledge. The masked figure of cladded silver and depressing blue. The second Fatui Harbinger, Il Dottore.
Kazuha wanted to speak, to ask why Scara had ever wanted to go to the Fatui, and to tell him walking up those stairs and into that cold palace wouldn't solve whatever he wanted or turn back time so that he would have never experienced his pains. It was the doorway of death, and there was nothing to pay entry with but a life.
When Scara turned back, at the foot of the final set of stairs, he saw the look on Kazuha's face. Who knew he would be the one betraying this time?
He pulled his hat down, letting it fall to the ground, and clutched his veil in a tight fist. He wanted to smile so it wouldn't hurt so much, but the air in his empty lungs got caught in his throat,
"The Fatui." Scara admitted, feeling tears welling up and stinging in his eyes as he turned his head to Kazuha. He wanted to speak his final farewell, but failed. If he had a heart, it would probably be beating faster than ever. After all, that is what he desired.
A heart.
There were no words to describe how Kazuha felt then. Was it shock, pain, confusion, betrayal? Time felt as slow as the snow that fell. He stared into the pained violet eyes of Scara, a great wall falling between them.
"You're the prince."
Scaramouche didn't say a word. He nodded slowly, his eyes glued to the brilliant crimson-red eyes of Kazuha. This would be the last of that bright colour in the poor prince's life.
"Kunikuzushi." The doctor smiled with his bright rows of sharp teeth. The mask that covered the upper half of his face was sure to hide the most despicable pair of eyes, ones which belonged to the devil.
There was so much left for Kazuha to say, but not the breath left in his lungs to say it all. The cold froze over his mind, rendering him still in the dreary scene.
The Harbinger howled with laughter from atop the set of stairs, "I had never expected you would arrive with such grandeur, Scaramouche."
Then, before Kazuha could run up the stairs and scream at Scara to change his mind, Dottore issued an order with a swipe of his hands, "Take him away." The man motioned towards the Fatui guards before turning his back, a sickening smile spread across his pale face, "We can't have any witnesses."
The guards swarmed Kazuha before he could draw his blade, pulling him away from the stairs with the hilts of their daggers or the points of their guns.
"Wait-! SCARA-SAN! Don't do this! Please-!"
One of the guards used the butt of his rifle to knock Kazuha unconscious, silencing the man that yearned for serenity in nature to sorrow, "Keep quiet."
The court before the palace fell silent.
"You won't need a deadweight like him on your way to becoming a god now," Dottore cackled.
A prince was supposed to take care of his people, to sympathize with those less fortunate, but he had learned many times before that it earned him nothing but guilt and pain in return. Scaramouche didn't say a word. He knew that if he were to utter even a small 'I'm sorry', his tears would break through into an ugly sob. All that he could do at that moment was watch as the human was dealt with.
It was known long before they began this journey together that Kaedehara would be eradicated upon their arrival at the Tsaritsa's Palace, but it still shifted something in Scaramouche's chest. It could have been his 'heart' strings breaking or just a simple gear in his chest cracking under the pressure of his anguish.
Why does it hurt so much?
While Dottore continued to speak with ill remarks regarding the samurai, all Scaramouche could focus on was Kazuha's voice laced with pain within his last words. He stood still as the ice statue that was carved atop a fountain at the far left of the palace entrance; his shell of a body refused to do anything other than stare.
The cold air blew strong as Kazuha was carried away. He wanted nothing more than to run and help Kazuha, but it would be a mere mortal's life or freedom. The prince had learned his lesson after three times that a human was never worth it.
[One Month Later–September.]
Even as it was only autumn, the cold of Snezhnaya's snow-capped mountains seeped throughout the stone castle branching to the Tsaritsa's Palace. The snow rests in thick layers over the land of mute green and dull skies. It had been a week since the prince vowed loyalty to the Tsaritsa, just as all other Fatui members had before enlistment.
Rumours had spread throughout the Fatui of a 'harbinger-in-training'. The headquarters of the Fatui had quickly become a hotspot for Fatui gunners, vanguard, agents, skirmishers, mages, and so on. Everyone wanted a glimpse of the rumoured prince, most only catching the short prince at one of the many balconies of the castle, staring off.
"What could he be thinking about so deeply?" many wondered.
"I heard he travelled here with a close friend."
"Then what happened to him?"
"Well...He was meant to be executed under Il Dottore's orders, but he's run away. Don't tell anyone though. The prince isn't supposed to know about this."
"And what are you two talking about?" a booming voice interrupted the trainees.
They all turned to the tall figure, Il Dottore. He smiled, but it was as empty and cold as death.
"Nothing, Sir! We were all just getting back to work-"
"Yes! Nothing to worry about!"
"We'll be on our way, Sir-"
Dottore stopped them, leaning down to heed a warning, "Keep it quiet or the 'prince' will know. Get it together and scram."
The three didn't wait another moment before saluting and running off. "Insolent bastards. Don't they know I could kill them if I really wanted? Lucky for them today is a good day," the Harbinger cackled and headed off to enter a vast room, where the prince stood.
"Ready to head off now? First missions are always nerve-wracking, but just remember you won't have another chance," he approached the balcony where the prince stood, looking out again to nothing at all.
Scara, or what he would be called now, Scaramouche, stared off into the cold mountains and stars in the sky that were thousands of miles away from all mankind, even puppets made by the Shogun. He changed his physical appearance, and maybe even his mentality. His hair was cut short now and he wore a change of clothes that was in accordance with the Fatui's signature colours of red, black, and gray. He had worn this outfit once before, before or after his second betrayal, he had forgotten now.
With his chin resting on his hand, he leaned his weight onto the balcony railing with a placid face. Many thoughts floated throughout his mind, many guaranteed to be labeled 'negative' or 'chaotic' from a human's perspective, before a certain voice pulled his attention back to the present. Il Dottore.
He took a deep breath in, something that he didn't do without command. While he was known to be the missing prince from Inazuma within the Fatui headquarters, he still had to maintain his identity of being a 'human'.
"I guess," he answered without facing him. If he could punch Dottore anywhere, it would be the solar plexus. Next thing on his bucket list, besides obtaining power through his own means and forgetting all about his fucked up past, would be beating the living shit out of that bastard doctor. Just the thought of it brought Scaramouche's mind to ease, until he heard Dottore's next statement.
"Not thinking about turning back now, right? No one will welcome you back after knowing you ran to the Fatui's doorstep."
His words hit like a rubber toy made for babies to chew on. Scaramouche wasn't welcomed by his own nation, which he had come to terms with long ago, so it wouldn't surprise him if those words were true, but it still hurt to hear.
Well, fuck him and the people who despise their own prince anyway. None of their opinions will matter to him once they're the ones under his control.
It was amusing to see a puppet display human emotions, enough for the Harbinger to decide further actions upon the development of their newest harbinger. "I'll personally walk you to the stables. Gives me time to remind you what your mission is," he said as he motioned with his hand for Scaramouche to follow.
In every hallway and doorway, there was at least one Fatui standing guard. It was suffocating how tight the security was if the lack of decor and chilling stone weren't enough of a welcome.
Scara rolled his eyes before he followed after Dottore. He couldn't help but stare at the guards they passed. It was better than staring at someone who's a literal doctor gone mad. Besides, whatever the madman was hiding underneath his partial mask was undoubtedly ugly.
"You are to travel back to Inazuma and gather intel on the Kanjou Commission since they're beginning to become a nuisance for the Fatui's general profits. From there, you'll convince the current head of the Kanjou Commission. Do it however you see fit, just make sure you clean up your mess."
Okay, so he just has to convince them to remove their plans that interfere with that Fatui. Easy, right?
"Yeah, yeah, I get it." His words echoed through the hallway they were walking in. Although Scara wasn't exactly happy about traveling back to Inazuma, it was ordered; meaning, he had to obey them no matter the circumstances. He couldn't imagine what kind of punishment would be waiting for him other than a death sentence from what he witnessed a week ago of some peasant that went and sold their information to a neighbouring nation's military.
They travelled down the stairs of the castle to an outdoor courtyard, stretching through to another sect of the castle. Snow was present there too, falling onto the sharp green bushes and weeping vines.
After walking through a conference room, they entered a well-kept stable with a high ceiling and an almost infinite row of horses primarily for the cavalry. It smelled heavily of animals and straw, yet Dottore didn't bat an eye.
When he entered the stable with Dottore, Scaramouche immediately covered his nose; Although he was a puppet, he did have the same mechanics as a human such as senses. Since Dottore wasn't bothered by the smell, he questioned if the doctor was human at all. Perhaps that was why the madman had reached out with an invitation in the first place–because they shared an inhumanness. It added up to explain why Dottore bugged him so frequently since the prince first arrived in the palace.
"You have thirty days to complete this mission and report back in person. Once you arrive by horse at Fontaine's border, there will be another encampment for you to check in with. From there, you'll have to keep low until you enter the docks of Liyue Harbour. There will be an agent monitoring you along the way, so don't try anything funny."
Thirty days seems about right. Convincing a big-time commission isn't easy, but he's sure he would be able to do it. After all, he's always been quite confident in his skills after years of lessons in Tenshukaku.
He rolled his eyes again, crossing his arms this time. "I'm a man who takes orders seriously. Why would you assume I would do anything stupid right when I joined the Fatui? If I really wanted to betray you so soon, I would be Teyvat's greatest fool," he claimed. Dottores' words only made him want to prove himself worthy of a title such as 'Harbinger' even more. Who does he think he is to dare speaking to him as if he is a bug? He may no longer be a prince, but that didn't take away from the royal 'blood' that ran through his gears and coursework.
"I'll complete the mission, no matter what."
Dottore's mouth curved up into a crooked smile. If it weren't for the idea that the man in front of Scaramouche was a Fatui Harbinger, some may have called him handsome. "You're either confident in your capabilities or an idiot for threatening the Fatui, but I'll let you slide since you're just a pupil."
A black horse was drawn from one of the stalls over to them by one of the hostlers. The horse was dressed in leather armour and satchels of minimal supplies. The doctor was well aware that Scaramouche was not a human, yet he pretended so. "You won't be needing much on this mission, but at least make sure your horse doesn't die. I doubt you'd be wanting to walk all the way to Liyue," Dottore patted the horse's side and turned away. "Best of luck to you, assuming you'll need it."
The Harbinger sure liked to talk, that was something that Scaramouche took note of. So much so that he had learned to just smile and nod, pretending that he was listening. After about a week of the doctor yapping to him just about everything ranging from his twisted experiments to even the fucking weather, he figured that after the first quarter of the conversation covered a mission or anything useful retaining to the Fatui, he could tune out everything else.
"I'd hope you won't go searching for another companion now. I'd hate to burst your bubble, but we Fatui don't take outsiders," Dottore laughed his notorious laugh and left. Without him in the room, it was easier to think and breath. It was almost suffocating how arrogant he was, but there was hardly anything to pinpoint about the man; he shared nothing about himself.
Scaramouche was used to jokes about himself and his past, but Kazuha? Someone who was kind to him despite barely knowing him? Someone from the Kaedehara clan? Who the fuck does this man think he is???
A God? A man who rules the world? If he believes so, then he has no right to call himself that. Not just anyone can call themself a god; not even the Raiden Shogun considered her sorry ass to be one after locking him up for decades.
The prince watched as Dottore left the room, resisting to curse the man out. Hell, it's only been a month and Scaramouche already despises him.
The holster awkwardly smiled behind his Fatuimask and began speaking, "This one can last through the cold of Snezhnaya for a week, but be careful with the monsoons of Liyue; I heard it can be at least four feet after one day." He then helped the prince pack more into the bags before leading them out to the snow.
Scaramouche was not at all interested in small talk, especially after getting an ear-full from the second harbinger in command, so he just nodded in response.
The man promptly handed Scaramouche the lead to his horse. "Since you came here on foot, you should know the way to Fontaine's borders. This guy doesn't need much, but he does get off track at the smell of sunsettias, so be careful." It didn't seem the holster would stop talking any time soon, but a call from another Fatui agent shut him up.
"I'll be off then. Good luck to you, pal," he waved and assisted another agent with his horse.
Scaramouche only watched as the holster walked away. He had a small feeling in his chest that was both uneasy and nostalgic. But, he disregarded those emotions and mounted the horse.
The dirt path ahead had been cleared of snow that night, yet it was now with at least a foot atop it again. The path led away from the city through the forestry, away from any witnesses of the mainstream. Perhaps this stable was only one in the vast numbers in the castle.
It was well past Scaramouche's bedtime from when he was in Inazuma, though now he's in Liyue at the moment. The clouds moved slowly as they cast shadows over the shining moon as per usual. The scenery on the way back wasn't different as the way to Snezhnaya, but it still lacked the same vibrancy as when that Kaedehara boy was there with him.
Upon remembering so, Scaramouche found a maple leaf floating towards him, soon landing on the path ahead. He halted the horse and stared down at it, almost waiting for something breath-taking to happen, but it just floated away as soon as it had arrived. He then carried on and began searching for a place for the horse to rest.
Through the time that Scaramouche had travelled to Snezhnaya, the Millelith had spread throughout Liyue and the nation's borders to survey for signs of Inazuma's prince. It seemed that word had travelled through the area, yet the night was peaceful and quiet in Liyue's forests from the bustle of cities in Fontaine. Even the adepti had seemed to know, their eyes somewhere in the shadows of the forests and mountains. In a way, it was both comforting and unsettling to know what lurked within Liyue's land of adepti and contracts.
The world seemed silent ever since Kazuha had left Scaramouche's side. The world was just a blur of colours, sounds, and people. There wasn't anything much to enjoy anymore, but perhaps this was a good thing. When Kazuha was still at his side, he found he had become distracted, almost swayed, to forget about Snezhnaya and wander through the land with the last Kaedehara son. It hurt to believe he truly was gone, as much as he wanted to smother the feeling of loss, it was bound to happen. Humans are flimsy creatures.
Autumn had begun to settle in, leaves turning colours and falling to the grounds or lifting through the winds through the lands. It was still full of life during this time of year, but, eventually, it would be a deafening silence of grey and cold, but it wouldn't matter; he had a duty to fulfill.
A cold front of air blew past Scaramouche's face, reminding him that winter was approaching. Maybe it was because the winters made his limbs stiff or the fact that everyone seemed too close together that he hated it so much. Or maybe it was because he never had someone that stayed by his side like that, not for long at least.
He grumbled and looked up to the night sky, searching for something to take his mind off of the past, but all he found was a memory of a dead person.
"The wind has ceased... The world is silent, so now is the best time to rest well. See you tomorrow."
"You're haunting me even as a memory," he cursed the night and all that it reminded him of. "But I suppose that's what I get for killing a good man."
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Author's Note:
Welcome back!
We hope that you had a nice and relaxing few holidays. The Lunar New Year has just passed and I remembered that we haven't updated in a while, so I went on and edited just enough for a standard-length chapter. Hope it wasn't all too heart-wrenching (but we did intend for the effect, so do writhe in pain with us).
The next update is yet to be determined, but thank you to those of you that have stayed up until now!
See you soon~
-Koko & Xueyun