Btw, if you're vegetarian/vegan/can't eat seafood, you can change the meat in a meal for the alternative :) Tartaglia wouldn't force you to eat something you wouldn't/can't after all <3 and if you guys don't believe in the whole planets in retrograde or tarot, please don't be bashing it in the comments or whatever. I intend to give [Name] particular fixations and references, and this is one of them considering I'm quite knowledgeable on the matter. I'll always end a chapter with a quick notice on any intentional references if there's any missed but this'll happen more in the future when they're more comfortable. Thank you :)
~~~
The power of the Creator never failed to surprise him. Most of his recent years had been filled with whispers and ushers about the newly acquired information about the deity that had yet to reign. Although, the information was scattered across the realm of Teyvat and below to the point Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa, was beginning to grow frustrated. Ajax — Or Tartaglia as he was referred to — recalled the moments of her gentle nature falling, succumbing to her irritation as she orders the older Fatui Harbingers to gather information. Admittedly, he was one of the few who failed to believe her utterances. There was no better deity than her, he assumed, so she must be testing their loyalty.
It wasn't until the Sixth Harbinger, the Balladeer, refuted the Cryo Archon with his bitter comments. The room had never been so silent, or cold. Everyone knew of the Sixth's puppet origins, but even he shuddered from the temperature. Tartaglia hadn't heard anyone refuting the Creator's existence since. This was more of a delusion, everyone realised, so they had to tread carefully before they receive punishment. Even then, the youngest Harbinger wasn't convinced.
His belief only arose once he was blessed — not by a Vision as he already wielded one — but by a bow. He had been struggling with mastering the weapon and assumed that one of the others had mocked his abilities. But then the bow changed after the next few days to a stronger one as he felt his strength build-up. He was never one to care for the weaponry he held, but the gifts bestowed upon him felt incredible: divine even. At first, it was the initial strength he held, boosting the damage of his attacks to cut deeper with his Hydro blades and pierce the skin with his arrows — even when he threw them in frustration.
The second bow focused on the frequency of his ability to improve, landing harsher and more powerful hits upon his enemies and training dummies more often.
The final bow assisted the extent of his attacks, swapping quantity for quality, but — as he learned the previous skills — he combined the two for quality attacks relentlessly. He had never mentioned it to the others, excitedly showing off his new bows as he wandered the twists and turns of the Fatui base. He noticed the only one who realised was The Balladeer, but the wounded puppy kept his tongue bitten to not disrespect the Creator in Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa's, presence. That's what he deserved, Tartaglia thought, his attitude had to be knocked down a peg.
Although, it never crossed his mind that the gifts were a symbol of the Creator's Will. Not until he heard them, that was.
『 "Seriously? How many bows do I need to give you? Can't you just crit once?" 』
That's where his devotion began. He didn't understand their message, but he couldn't care less about that part. They were a deity, the one the Tsaritsa adored, and they chose him to spoil with gifts of power. And, as a bonus, he could witness the turmoil of the Balladeer every time he witnessed the use of the multitude of gifts.
◇◆◇◆
[Name] didn't remember when they fell asleep. From the overstimulation, they expected to be up until they broke themselves into a meltdown. However, someone has to be on their side, they stayed strong and battled the tears and hands they wanted to throw. When they awoke once more, they craned their neck with an unsatisfied whine from the crackles and gas in their joints from where they'd slept. Tartaglia, on the other hand, slept soundlessly with his closed eyes focused on the entrance of the hut. Had he stayed up? They brought a hand to their eyes to wipe at the crust in their eyes, cringing at how awful they felt, and directed their gaze to the outside to notice the rain was no longer pouring.
They slowly rose to their feet after a few minutes (or an hour, did it really matter?) to stretch their limbs further. They only stopped as they teetered near a cramp in their abdomen and calves: those were too dangerous to risk any further. They covered their mouth as they yawned silently, blinking the tears that formed as a result as they spared a blurry glance towards the sleeping Harbinger. With his cheek resting against the back of his hand, he leaned against the barrel that kept his body sat up. Now that they could get a closer look at him, [Name] noticed the scars that littered both his face and arms from his (presumed) countless battles.
He's cute. They surmised, but what's with everyone sleeping sitting up around me? Their eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, visibly portraying their suspicion as they huffed to themselves. But they brushed it off, turning back towards the outdoors as they took a simple step that echoed against the wooden panels. The noise awoke the sleeping beauty, unfortunately.
His awakening was abrupt. His eyes snapped open almost instantly as a result, looking around with his Hydro swirling in his hands already before he noticed the Creator and their 'deer in headlights' expression. Once he realised the situation, he let his blade evaporate with a sheepish, sleepy smile. There were no words exchanged as he got up, copying their display as he readies his limbs for battles before he stood by their side. "Good morning," he soon spoke, clearing his throat of the raspiness. "You're looking well."
What's your secret? Care to exchange notes? They completed his voice line with a smile to themselves, "you too." His demeanour perked in response to their passive compliment, "Uh, do you wanna go get something to eat or something before you kick my ass?"
His eyes widened slightly, "no, no! We'll be training," he correctly politely, "I'd never do something so rough to you."
"Ah, what a shame." His pale cheeks flushed at their muttering, unsure if he was meant to have heard their implication or not. "But should we eat first?" They continued on as if they didn't say anything. How often do they make these small comments? Had he missed any?
"W—Well," he cleared his throat once more, "if that's what you so desire, then—" He cut himself off once he caught their unamused look, "... I believe we should." He settled with, recalling their words the night before as the colour pink remained painted on his face.
"Then we shall." They smiled, "you got anywhere in mind?" Please don't cook; please don't cook; please don't—
"The nearby teleporters are still quite far, so a trip to the city would be difficult. How about I make us something?"
... Fuck. They slowly closed their eyes as they nodded hesitantly, following him towards the nearby lake as their body faltered. I don't want him to take it personally if I hate it... at least restaurants have a little more leeway since the chef won't know. Even if Tartaglia noticed their sudden deflation of character, he didn't mention a change.
"I'll just be a few moments. You can go and fulfil whatever you wish to, Your Eminence."
You could just tell me to piss off. They blinked, "Uh, okay...?" They slowly made their way back to the camp, awkwardly sitting by the small stove pot the Hilichurls weren't using at the moment. Do they ever use this? I swear there's no mention of why they have them. They studied the movements of each of the 'churls curiously, passing the time by guessing which Hilichurl would have the best specialty dish. I bet Mitachurls aren't allowed to cook. They convinced themselves, they're the protectors, right? Maybe Samachurls would cook then, healing stuff maybe? Archers probably aren't allowed down their towers or something. How do they build these towers anyways? Do they cut down trees? Oh my me, do I need to cut down trees for the teapot? Absolutely not. What if people get mad at me for that? Would that be a game mechanic here? Oh my me, would—?
Their thought train ended as Tartaglia sat by their side, using his Vision to wash the ingredients he collected as he hums to himself. "Ah, I didn't realise they hadn't lit the fire." His washing pauses momentarily as he directs his gaze to the damp firewood below the pot.
Who's attacks can I replicate without looking stupid as hell? Yanfei's? With a shrug at their own thoughts, they held out their hand nervously as warmth flooded their hand's sense of touch and nerves to create a low flame. Until it grew too much, replicating the charged attack of the lawyer to thud against the floor (lighting up the firewood) and causing the cooking pot to warm intently. Silence filled the camp before they slowly turned to Tartaglia with an inferior smile, "... well, it's lit."
"It is." He confirmed slowly, eventually taking his eyes from the chaos to finish washing the ingredients he needed to. Luckily he could use his Vision to cool the pot and add in the necessary water to sizzle, eventually adding the correct ingredients for the soup he planned to make. As he did so, [Name] glanced at their hand to see small blisters beginning to form where the Pyro emerged from their hand. Although, the blisters were already healing over. They broke their gaze from their hand to watch the pot as a feeling of dread washed over them.
Oh. Oh no. Is he making his signature dish? A look of horror drowned any other expression they held as they recognised the recipe, shuddering at just the thought of the sensory overload they'd receive from his dish. They adored him, but he is an autistic's nightmare. What have I done to deserve this? But they kept their mouth shut. With them, they knew the dangers of mentioning the mere thought of disliking a meal, so they'd rather deal with it. Besides, their mind whirled, he doesn't like picky eaters. It was one thing they disliked about his character: his favourite food voice line.
He turned his head towards them as he let the soup simmer, almost as though he could sense their discomfort and silent curses directed towards him. He couldn't, but he couldn't shake off the idea of them being uncomfortable. Was he too pushy earlier? Had he offended them? He watched them silently as their eyes frantically shifted from the flames to the pot, to the Hilichurls and repeat. "Your..."
"[Name]." They soon whispered, "please call me that instead." He straightened his posture at the honour but smiled in greed as his arrogance showed evidently. They gift him weapons and now the honour of their name? If they weren't so adored and known for being so loving, he'd assume they were trying to court him.
His question of their well-being fell, being subjected to the pile of unsaid sentences of his memory, whilst he boasted to himself quietly. Of course he'd be given this honour: if not him, who else?
✧✧✧
Admittedly, [Name] didn't hate the dish. It surprised them immensely, but they welcomed it. I guess Rhinedottir was right about the 'preferring specialty dishes'. They sighed in contentment as they lay on their back, closing their eyes to avoid the rays of the sun and Tartaglia's expectant eyes of praise. It was an okay dish, but it probably didn't help he barely had many ingredients to add to it.
It also didn't help that there was little to no stimulation available whilst they ate, having to rely on the Hilichurls to entertain their brain. The woes of no technology. They managed, though, to get through as much as possible before they gave up: the crunching got annoying after a while after all. They slowly opened their eyes as they heard Tartaglia potting around nearby. With a sly grin from their pun, they sat themselves up once more before watching with envy as his Vision assisted with washing the bowls the Hilichurls were kind enough to lend.
Being a Hydro user seems to make life so easy, they huffed to themselves, I'd never have to feel the texture of food in the sink ever again. But they soon brushed the brewing of envy off as best as they could, closing their eyes once more so they didn't have to watch the use of welding water. It wasn't until he stood up that they gave him their attention, copying his movements to stand by his side as he makes sure everything is back to where it was. He probably cooks a lot for his siblings, huh? Their thoughts didn't hold any malice of the fact, merely observing his behaviour: it seemed so fluent, almost like another language they could speak. But they couldn't. Body language and facial expressions were difficult, adding with the fact so many people lied about their intentions... well, it was a language they'd never wrap their head around.
"Are you ready?" His voice broke the initial melancholy they held, placing his hands on his hips as they hummed in agreement with his words. They spared a glance at their hand to make sure it would be fine for any pressure, blinking slowly as they realised nothing calloused their palm. In an attempt to find something, they looked at their other hand to find nothing once more.
I did burn myself, no?
"We can use the training dummies they have here," they didn't get to marinate in their thoughts as Tartaglia's was already focusing on the idea of battle and training. "They should be sturdy enough to practise for now." Honestly, they stood idly as they blinked at his words.
Maybe I was wrong about him? Guess he doesn't always think about getting hurt in battles.
"And then we can spar."
Oh, nevermind. They shook their head in amusement, biting down the smile forming as they followed him towards the target practice for the archer and melee Hilichurls. Their amusement died down once he stood by the target, crossing his arms over his chest casually as he eyed them up.
"Do you have a polearm to use?" He felt silly asking, of course they'd—
"Nope." His posture slouched a little as he processed their words, opening his mouth but nothing left past his lips as he settled with a hum. Noticing his reaction, they quickly clarified, "b—but I can borrow them, if that makes sense? M—Maybe I can just test the one you make with your Delusion?" Honestly, I don't wanna take Xiao's polearm when he uses it way more than I do.
"Alright then," he soon perked up at the thought of them replicating his way of battle. He agreed too quickly for their liking, but it's not like they could chicken out now. Silence wrung as [Name] held out their palms hesitantly, doing their best to try the Hydro daggers for now.
Okay, this is humiliating. They sighed to themselves, dropping their palms as they grumbled to themselves. "Why does nothing work when I want it to?" Was it the fact Tartaglia was staring at them? So expectantly? So intently? They grew nervous under his scrutinising gaze, kicking the toe of their shoes into the ground as they made sure to look everywhere but at him. As he took a step toward them, they lifted their gaze to him and instantly shrunk under his gaze. Ah, why is he looking at me like that?!
His eyes were incredibly dull, something they hadn't got the full experience of before, as the brows above his eyes furrowed into an expression of annoyance. Were they that useless and defenceless? They knew he wasn't one to use violence against his subordinates, but they weren't one of them. As he took another step forward, they stumbled a few back. From the distance, he closed in faster than they expected. A flash of Hydro invaded their peripheral vision, dropping their heart to their stomach as they realised what he planned to do. Before his dagger reached their face, they held a hand up.
They expected their hand or face to bleed, cause excruciating pain both emotionally and physically, but nothing of the sort happened. A comparative dagger mirrored his, blocking his attack on a wider scale as their pupils were blown out from the adrenaline shock.
His expression shifted almost immediately, falling into a proud smile as he backs off. "There we go," he chirps, "you just weren't in the right headspace." They couldn't respond, barely catching his words as their heartbeats filled their ears. They hate these rushes: they're too alert to everything everywhere. They dropped their gaze to the floor as they took simple gasps of breath to calm the race of their body, spotting the dagger they held. It was larger than his, sporting a brighter blue with sharper edges that dripped ferociously. Their blinking stuttered, letting their displeasure rise as they stared at him.
Fuck you, their eyes narrowed sourly, that was cruel. The Hydro soon landed against the ground, soaking into the soil as they caught their breath at a reasonable pace. As they did so, Tartaglia's eyes wandered towards their wrist. The proud nature faltered as he noticed the small cut, staining their skin with a golden liquid that Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa, gushed over so much.
They're bleeding? But he made sure not to hit them. His eyes dropped to where their dagger landed, noticing the ground absorbing the Hydro: and small droplets of their blood. His eyes shot back up to their face, shifting expression as it wavered to multiple emotions he struggled to suppress. They're using an element they can't control. Why would they do that for him? Were they not aware of the consequences?
Or did they just not care?
✧✧✧
[Name] didn't dare stand up once they hit the floor for the nth time, panting under their breath as they whined internally. Why did I never add working out into any of my routines? Their body littered with small, barely visible cuts that were already healing as they closed their eyes in defeat.
"Perhaps we should end it there." Tartaglia's voice only led them to a spiral of inferiority, "we can always pick this up at a later date. Her Majesty would never refuse you asking for a Harbinger's presence." He spoke with such conviction, they just assumed he was right with his statement. They slowly opened their eyes after a moment of silence, letting their fatigue be forgotten as the shades of orange in the sky painted their mask for them.
They eventually sat themselves up, focusing solely on the horizon where the mountains and sky met to blend together so pleasingly. Tartaglia eventually caught onto their attention fixation, turning his head towards the direction of their gaze to see the final inklings of the sun setting across Teyvat. [Name] was always awestruck whenever they caught a glimpse of the sunsets in the game, pausing whatever they were doing if safe enough to admire and take photos that they never looked at ever again. But in the flesh? It was ethereal.
If anything, the sight rejuvenated them; however, their body wouldn't take very kindly to any more beatings. So the sparring ended. "A fan of the scenery?"
"Very," they murmured, standing themselves up with their eyes still on the illustration of daylight. "I love the sunset. I always used to watch out my window whenever I was free to," they revealed, recalling the silent nights after misery where they'd let the lowering sun take their tears with it. "My room faced the sunset, so I'd just open my curtains to watch when I knew it was happening."
"Do you enjoy the moonlight as well?" He questioned softly, standing by their side to watch the view with them. It was a mundane question, but he was joyous to learn anything about the Creator and whatever realm they left just so they could enjoy Teyvat.
"I love the moon," they sighed in bliss, "she's so pretty and I've always worked better at night." They rambled, "I think the moon was the first thing I ever found beauty in." They whispered, "it wasn't a nice place where I was, so the moon was a reminder that I always could rely on the night sky to calm me of anything." Their tone reeked of loneliness and sorrow, a tone he honestly believed they didn't notice was slipping, that surrounded the air and tainted it with a melancholy heavyweight.
"Your realm referred to the moon as 'she'?"
"Some." They murmured, "not everyone really cared for the moon, and others mocked those who did." The more the spoke of their world, the more he despised the vermin who spent their days tormenting the innocent ideals the Divine Creator held. "So I stopped mentioning her. All we could say was about her influence with oceans, but that was it. Any more than that? Well, it was the first time I noticed the looks I got on a daily." They lifted their shoulders solemnly, reminiscing the odd stares they had been so oblivious to before. In a fragile state of mind, they lifted their head to make sure Tartaglia wasn't the same.
And he wasn't. He looked softer at their words, holding onto every word they spoke with an enthusiasm they had never received before. "Did the moon mean anything more to you?"
"You—you want to hear it?"
"Of course," he beamed, "how could I not? If the moon is important to you, then she's important to me too."
Oh, how they've waited decades to hear those words. Their eyes lit up, shining with unshed, appreciative tears as they copied his smile. "Then I'll tell you everything I remember!"
✧✧✧
As Tartaglia allowed [Name] the opportunity to spout about everything they knew that involved the moon (including the Tarot card) before they got sidetracked, the two made their way towards the nearby waypoint that they could walk to. The poor Harbinger didn't understand half of the things mentioned though, struggling to wrap his head around the planets surrounding [Name]'s that shifted into 'retrograde'? He believes that's the word they used.
They explained it countless times, but perhaps a mere mortal mind couldn't comprehend it? He'll need to bring it up to Her Majesty, curious if she'd know anything on the matter. But for now, he'll nod along to their words as he does his best to follow their scattered way of thinking and explaining. He was a no-judgement zone for them, knowing that many others may have believed the things they spoke about if they had nothing like the Heavenly Principles or Archons. After all, Teyvat had its own rules, so why not other places?
Eventually, his brain was allowed the rest as they ran out of steam and information. It was worth it. The passionate expression they held as they explained, backtracked and then continued was something he could never replicate otherwise. He'll keep as much of this to his heart as he could, smiling at their fondness of the subject. Sadly, the day had to end. He was extremely hesitant to leave, spotting the Creator muttering to themselves as they thought quietly. "Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?"
They lifted their head from the waypoint, staring at him before they shook their head at his words. "No, no, you have things to do. Besides, I'm gonna go test some things out. I'll see you soon, Tartaglia, okay?"
"Alright," he affirmed, but continued to stand by the teleporter as he watched. "Are you—?"
"Go," they urged with a soft chuckle, "you have a boat to book, right? You'll have to leave Liyue at some point." He faltered at their words, nodding slowly as he agrees eventually.
"You're right," he chuckles, "I'll be sure to keep an eye out for your appearance in any nation you visit."
Which is the next one. They simply smiled in response, giving him a simple wave as he activates the waypoint. As he left, they shook their head to clear their mind. "I have to work on my reflexes and fighting," they sighed softly, "I can't be relying on everyone everywhere." They gently placed their palm against the waypoint, selecting the Jueyun Karst waypoint (not the domain) and closed their eyes for the change in scenery. The familiar view of the Minlin sub-location entered their eyes as they opened them, searching the area to properly map out the route they needed. There's an area with a couple of boars around here, it's empty there so it'll be a good place to test myself.
They followed the path at the beginning, keeping their eyes on the ground for the time being until they diverged from it toward the area they were wanting. The sight of the nearby samachurl and boars let them smile to themselves, realising they were in the right area, and simply walked past them to the open meadow that Liyue had an abundance of. It was perfect. However, they neared closer to the edge to get their heart racing, recalling that danger helped them the most to defend themselves.
As their heartbeat rose, the Hydro of Tartaglia's elemental skill began to cling to their knuckles once more: letting them shakily back off from the ledge as they hold the daggers up to their face to observe them. Oh! That's why I was struggling, these are different to his. I was basing my attacks on his rather than taking into account what I had. They recognised, tightening their grip on the heavier dagger to slice at the air. Yeah, that feels way better. See? I can do things on my own. Their lips curved up happily, only switching their attention as the night sky echoed the calls of the sorrowful.
The mourning calls of a bird from afar, a sound they recognised without any recollection before it hit them. They heard the noise a lot when they used the Qingyun Peak waypoint or Statue, often pausing as they heard it to see what it was but they always came up empty-handed until they decided to look it up.
Xiao... They faltered, staring towards the peak with an empathic gaze. The multiple theories they read on the (rightfully named) Bird Call from Afar track that hinted the call Xiao elicited for the missing Yaksha he had no closure on. It always broke their heart when they remembered, but they couldn't help but feel a little comforted by the fact he was nearby.
Perhaps that's why their progress declined, resulting in a careless case of pushing the limits and testing fate. They were already so close to the edge, so near to plummeting toward the water with each strike they unleashed to build up their endurance and balance their strength. Perhaps that's why they simply only yelped as their foot slipped, missing the ground as they fell with gravity holding them by the waist.
I forgot a glider. Their eyes dulled as they realised, feeling the frantic and intense wind currents doing the best possible to keep them from cracking their skull. But the efforts were in vain. I forgot the thing I needed the most. Their eyes slowly shifted toward the Hydro dagger digging into their skin, And you can't plunge with Tartaglia's skill.
The calls of mourning stopped as they fell. Amber hues directing towards the sound silently before the yaksha went to investigate. He felt incredibly guilty about the strike of aggravation that filled his senses, knowing that the Creator had yet to unlock their potential, but he was fed up. With a defeated sigh, he donned the mask he owned and let his tattoos light up with his capabilities. He was late to helping them get down safely, mostly from his reluctance, but he held them in his arms as the Anemo wind he wielded pushed the two further: directly into the deep water rather than the shallow earth.
His mask dropped once he hit the water with them, breaking the surface as he turned to see them bopping by his side. As they looked at him, he looked away to focus on the shore nearby. He swam over to it, hearing them following him silently other than the displacement of water. The once beautiful sky seemed to mock the both of them, greying over with arrogance to freeze them even further. But Xiao knew better than that.
He let his shoulders drop slightly once he got a view of them, seeing them on their hands and knees and staring at the ground with their nails digging into the soil. It confirmed his suspicions. He shouldn't be too harsh on them, he was inexperienced once too. It was a learning process, and he wasn't being a good guide. If anything, he should be giving them more credit for their desire to better themselves. But with the growling sky, all he could think of was to give them space.
You let your guard down as soon as you realise you'll be fine by relying on someone else? They scolded themselves harshly, gritting and grinding their teeth together as they stared at the ground dampening from their soaked self. Stupid, stupid, stupid! The whole point of this was to stop being a burden, but you can't even do that, can you?
Their frustration pooled in their eyes, hurting themselves with the words they wanted to scream. They weren't sure if were their words though, directing it to themselves like they were another person. Were they that far from reality? That they believed they were another person entirely? Or it is something different. Did they take the expectations of so many people so easily? To break themselves down to replace the mask they dropped with fragments of themselves that didn't fit anywhere else. To use parts of themselves that others only desired, but grabbed the wrongly labelled ones to fight everything they intended for someone else.
I'm no Divine Creator. I'm not even human.
The spark of lightning was the only thing to bring them out of their spiral, lifting themselves to sit on their knees and look around to see the change of weather. When did this lightning start?
"... Xiao...?" They called out weakly, frantically turning their head side to side in case he was hidden away. "X—Xiao...?"
But the only thing around them was solitude.