Chapter Text
“Wow… So this is the inside of Irminsul…”
The pixie had the decency to sound reverent in the inner workings of the world-tree, even though her voice did carry annoyingly well in the quietly glistening air.
The path curved around them. The heart of Irminsul was ahead – or so it seemed.
The Balladeer had grown familiar with this deceitful place. He’d even somewhat grown to like it – a challenging maze, but it always yielded to his will in the end, just as the Abyss had. Perhaps buried, hidden spaces like these were fated to be his home, him being buried with them, out of sight in the shadows where he belonged. Even though the bluish-silver tree ahead shone with enough light to rival the false stars of the surface sky.
It held all knowledge of that mockery of a world, Teyvat. He liked to imagine the great tree pitied that world, so tiny in its branches, flowing through its roots like so much water. They could pity the world together, this tree and him.
“It’s different than what I imagined,” the Traveler then murmured behind him. The Balladeer chuckled to himself. Did you imagine anything at all?
“Ohh… Paimon’s never seen anything like this. And it feels like a sacred place…”
Sacred? This went beyond any gods pretending to be essential to the world’s functioning. Lesser Lord Kusanali’s domain actually contained something fundamental. “Irminsul is closely intertwined with the entirety of Teyvat,” he explained calmly, unable to stop a hint of impatience from creeping into his voice. “Every bit of information flowing here means something.” It was obvious to him, but… he should cut the ignorant some slack.
He glanced back at them. “Pick your jaws up off the floor. It’s time to go.”
The fairy folded her arms, frowning at him. “Why is it that Paimon just wants to do the opposite of everything he says…”
He sighed. Children. Utter children. He was tired. But he had a job to do. “Lesser Lord Kusanali, we will now proceed to the heart of Irminsul.” No sense in indulging them any further. Let’s get this over with.
The little god’s voice resounded from all around, yet somehow still as delicate as little bells. “Can you still sense where the heart of Irminsul is?”
He softened minutely. Such worry and care. They’d been here countless times and he’d never once gotten lost. Still, this was his first time without her, and her friends depended on him. He’d appease her. “Yes. Permission to begin searching for information there?”
“Permission granted,” she replied. “Go ahead.”
More than any gloating, he decided to convey the care the God of Wisdom held for the Traveler when he addressed him and Paimon again. “Let’s go. Stay close,” he emphasized. “Don’t go running off.” If he lost them… Kusanali wasn’t a vengeful god, or he wouldn’t be here now. Still, he didn’t aim on bungling this mission. Seeing her saddened would also be… suboptimal.
“Hey, so…”
He smirked. Paimon sounded rather less sure of herself all of a sudden.
“…Say we did go running off in here, what would happen?”
He had to let out a little laugh, thinking it over for a moment.
Fear of the unknown was the most potent emotion and driving force there was. Even if he had known the nature of such a fate for certain, even if he could have described it… he didn’t think he should have even then, for the idiots’ own benefit. These inquisitive nuisances needed a strong deterrent.
“Wh- what are you smirking at?!”
Alright, he’d bite. “I was just imagining the look on your travel companion’s face if you went and got lost,” he casually remarked. “Anything’s possible in here,” he continued, just a little more serious. This was serious. “You can’t rule anything out. So if you wanna stay safe, your best option is to stick close to me.”
Could they do it? Had Lesser Lord Kusanali overestimated her esteemed friends, or could they stomach this mission as well as he could? One way to find out. Without another word, he set off, striding along the glimmering path towards the great silver-blue tree.
The Traveler hesitated just a beat longer, but then hurried after him, quickly falling into a nervous stroll behind him. The Balladeer quirked a small, private smile. There it is. Unfamiliar waters… even a former nemesis was a welcome anchor when he was the only one around.
Just as well. There was already a memory fragment materializing up ahead, ready to redirect them, turn them around in the Abyss-like space. Catch up, morons.
“These sapling things have spread out,” Paimon observed. Just then, the space around them faded, and shifted around them as the fragment dissipated. The tree was behind them now, off to the side, but the Balladeer strolled forward all the same, not waiting for the Traveler to catch up. He had his instructions, and they were exceedingly simple.
“Those are all packets of information from inside Irminsul,” he stated. “Be careful not to touch them.” …He had, on accident. He didn’t look forward to having to pick a drooling or shrieking Traveler up off the floor, lost in some long-dead schmuck’s memory.
The Traveler did not speak. The Balladeer didn’t look back, but he could feel those golden eyes boring holes in the back of his skull. Heh. This mission was endlessly amusing. There was nothing the outlander could do! This quiet, useless fury was a balm on his wounded pride, if nothing else.
Their path curved around the silver tree, and even Paimon remained silent as they made their way to another information fragment. Again they were turned around, the tree ending up in front of them now.
“It looks the same in every direction,” the fairy complained, making the Balladeer roll his eyes. Celebrated too soon. No use in responding. Best not to encourage her. Her voice was even more grating than usual in the still air.
Another sapling, another turnaround. They were closer to the tree this time, providing an illusion of progress. Would this placate them in any way? He’d been nothing but helpful so far, there really was no need for the paranoid stares… as funny as they were.
“…No wonder he mentioned about getting lost,” Paimon probably intended to stealthily murmur to the Traveler. “Huh, whaddya know, he was actually telling the truth…”
I do that quite a lot… yet people are always surprised. He huffed out an amused little laugh, immediately sparking outrage behind him. “Is he mocking me again?! What is it this time?!”
He threw back a disdainful glance. “There’s a time and a place to lie, but this definitely isn’t it,” he outright told them, strolling onward with his veils wafting behind himself. “So why don’t you relax your guard a little?” He gradually slowed his pace, sensing they wouldn’t get turned around again – they’d made it to the tree at last. “We’re here,” he intoned, a sense of finality to his words, shutting down any further foolishness.
“What a huge tree…”
He withstood the urge to roll his eyes. Hadn’t they had it within view this whole time? Granted, it was impressive from up close, its glimmering branches reaching up to the elusive firmament, all the light from the entire plane converging into it in a pearly shimmer. Well. It was probably really impressive to someone like Paimon. It’d become a regular sight to him.
Nothing from the Traveler again. Fine. “Lesser Lord Kusanali.”
“Good, you made it,” the little goddess replied, relief tinting her voice – yet also, still, a hint of tension. “Are you ready?”
No need to fret. I have this in hand. He folded his arms. “Ready when you are.”
“Then please begin.”
He obediently outstretched a hand to the great tree, tapping into the flow of information, letting it wash over his mind.
“Preparing to access cognitive currents. Establishing waypoint…”
Kusanali was anchoring him, even without being present in the same plane. In a way, she was all around, part of Irminsul – best positioned to be a guardian deity in this particular instance.
“The Balladeer’s actually doing what Nahida tells him… guess he must want to stay alive,” Paimon murmured behind him. He managed a small smirk. Were they finally getting it? Had their meager brains finally wrapped around the concept of shifting one’s allegiance alongside shifting circumstances? Oh, wonder of wonders…
The Traveler stirred behind him. He sensed the outlander being deep in thought – and not replying to Paimon. Maybe there was more awareness there than he’d given the First Sage credit for. He clearly had his own stance on the matter, and the gears were very much turning in there…
“The rest is up to you,” Kusanali quietly told him. “If you discover anything at all, make sure to share it with us.”
Finally, his true purpose here. What he’d been guided towards and carefully prepared for.
He closed his eyes, smiling – proudly. It did feel good. “Will do.”
It took a moment for the currents of Irminsul to wash over him, but in those moments, miraculously… Paimon remained quiet long enough for him to slip away. Excellent…
Descenders…
Descenders, those most rare and elusive outlanders from beyond the firmament itself. Beyond that fragile cage that mocked them all down here on Teyvat…
He knew his fair share, now, terrifyingly. He’d glimpsed a little of what lay out there, the roiling darkness, the true stars, and everything that moved between them…
…but he’d keep that to himself, at least amongst anyone not already in the know. A secret currency, of sorts. That certainly seemed to be the way the Doctor had treated such knowledge, and… well, the Balladeer had to admit the man was clever, at least. Foolish enough to abandon a puppet with a lot left to give, but… clever in other ways.
He’d certainly learned a lot from him.
Descenders. The reason for his presence here.
He followed the current back to his own first meetings with the Traveler, right there at the fallen false star glinting by the sea.
He managed to extricate himself from the dream on his own strength? How is that possible?
Hah! Just because you are powerless to do something, does not mean I am. You’re too late, anyway. I’ve finished my research…
No. That was the last thing he needed.
Him meeting the Traveler in the Delusion factory, the shortsighted idiot raging about some ‘friend’ he’d apparently killed… hah. As if he hadn’t just barely arrived there, taking over from the Fair Lady…
I’m obviously not the mastermind behind this. Aren’t you supposed to be pretty tough? What are you waiting for – go get them…
No. No. He didn’t need this. Other Descenders, not just this singular, singularly useless one…
The outlander facing off against Childe, then Signora, flashes of foaming water and roaring flame flitting by, real enough to make him flinch. The outlander, sitting on a rock by the sea, fishing something from the gentle waves – Paimon?! That’s how those two had met? Oh, that was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard…
Deeper…
…O Almighty Sovereign, the Universitas Magistrorum has provided the predictions you requested: the two stars have been captured by the world’s gravity…
Under the surface, there… some faint voice… some darkened hall hidden from the light of day…
…but then…
Something else I noticed was that according to these records, the Fatui have not classified your sibling as one of the ‘Descenders’.
Descenders?
…What’s a Descender? Paimon’s never heard of it…
...Huh… Kusanali had already done her own share of research. While he’d been in his coma, presumably. She’d found time for it then, no problem…
…Something didn’t add up here.
While you were resting at Gandharva Ville, I took some time to perform an Irminsul search for information on your sister.
There it was.
But… we both came from beyond the sea of stars. There shouldn’t be any information on her in Irminsul.
…Another intriguing morsel. That did make sense, he realized with some small shock. Was this… a fool’s errand? Had Kusanali sent him on some wild goose chase…? But to what end? And why was the Traveler here as well?
Just what was going on?
The Balladeer changed course, swerving through the currents like a shark across a reef, setting off on a heading of his own. He had time. He could do a little investigating for his own purposes…
What are you hiding, Kusanali?
There. The Sanctuary – the atrium, the place he’d just left from himself. The Traveler, Paimon, and the little god.
The outlander had crouched down at Kusanali’s side, Paimon hovering at his shoulder. The God of Wisdom was… crying.
What?
The Balladeer hovered in closer, close enough to hear them clearly.
“Nahida?” the Traveler gentled, touching the Archon’s arm. “Are you alright?”
“Ah, Traveler, I-I’m all right,” Kusanali managed, her voice thick with tears. “I’m just a little confused…”
“What are you confused about?”
“We’ve just saved the world, right?” She looked up at her friend, blinking away tears, looking thoroughly confused indeed – an expression the Balladeer had never seen on her, nor imagined before. “So why… why am I crying?”
The Traveler sat back on his heels, seemingly dumbstruck, some sort of horror dawning in his eyes. “…Don’t tell me…”
“I don’t know where this feeling inside of me is coming from, but I feel very sad,” Kusanali managed to sniffle, looking up at her First Sage for some support.
“Do you still remember… what happened just now?” the Traveler spoke, seemingly from far away.
“Just now? We used the power of two Gnoses to successfully connect with the Irminsul consciousness from five hundred years ago…” Her little voice was so watery, even as her words carefully recounted the facts. The Balladeer felt like he was very far away, too. His mind raced to make sense of what he was seeing, and why he was seeing this in response to his query on Kusanali’s secrets.
“Then, we removed the remaining pollution from Irminsul…”
Tampering with Irminsul… in the presence of a being not from this world, and therefore without ties to Irminsul…
“Yeah, what’s wrong?” Paimon piped up. “Traveler, weren’t you there just now?”
The Balladeer opened his eyes. The scene spun away.
He was back at the heart of knowledge, his arm still outstretched to the silver tree.
Behind him, Paimon let out a quiet, gleeful little sound, seemingly unprompted. He narrowed his eyes, but didn’t turn back.
Then the Traveler took a sharp breath, seemingly shaken by something. The Balladeer’s eyes grew sharper still. He knew what was going on.
“Must be a riveting conversation you three are having,” he remarked, not even trying to keep the venom from his voice. It was surging through his veins by now, spilling over into every word. “Funny how all the good ones happen when I’m not involved.”
He’d thought Kusanali was better. He’d thought she’d told him everything, had been upfront about his reasons for being here, hadn’t just been lying and using him all over again.
Hah. More fool him. He should’ve known.
“Ah!” Paimon yelped, a textbook example of a guilty conscience. “Wh-what makes you think we’re talking to eachother?”
“Don’t insult me,” he snapped. “You’re having a private conversation without me. Obviously, I must be the topic of said conversation.” A gamble. Was he even important enough for that, to the deceitful little god? But there was a distinct possibility, and a surefire way to find out – these two morons were the world’s worst liars, easy to read even if he hadn’t already been familiar with their tells.
“We have every right to keep certain things confidential,” the Traveler muttered darkly, confirming his every suspicion.
“Of course you do,” he sneered back. “You can’t have your prisoner knowing too much.” Sarcasm dripped from his words. Still, nothing from Kusanali. Treacherous little thing. He’d been the world’s biggest idiot to trust her… to trust anyone at all.
…At least he’d finally wised up now. But what to do…
“So, uh,” Paimon hesitantly started, “Have you found anything yet…?”
…maybe it was best to play along a little longer. No sense in making rash moves. The least he could do was gather some more intelligence… test the God of Wisdom just a little more.
“Still looking,” he murmured, a growl lacing his voice. “Don’t get your hopes up, though,” he added, just this side of mocking. “You and your twin come from outside this world. It wouldn’t surprise me if there was nothing on either of you in Irminsul at all.” Riddle me this, Kusanali.
“…Wait, how’d you know about that?” the fairy quizzically tilted her head. “Did Nahida tell you?”
In a manner of speaking. In another, she never told me anything. “It’s not like we never met before,” he rasped instead. “And anyway, you’re world-famous. It’d be more surprising if I didn’t know a few things about you.” Please. Don’t insult me any further than you already have. The audacity is almost impressive.
“Every conversation with you is hard work,” the Traveler sighed quietly. “But your attitude is better than I thought.”
Hah. Really, now. “Right now, we have to keep the peace,” he bit out. “I’m not interested in creating more misery for myself, and making cordial conversation is… something I can manage.”
He still hadn’t really moved, still reaching out to the heart of Irminsul, still connected to it for whatever reason – too distracted by everything going through his mind, and these two yapping at him, to sever the connection. He hadn’t been actively searching… and yet, that was the moment something brushed past his mind, like a little silvery fish gliding just beneath the surface.
A familiar voice. A familiar warmth. The familiar scent of iron, and wood, and the sea.
“…Huh?” he murmured, blinking – his voice softening in surprise. “…Wait…”
A little branch manifested before him, between him and the tree. Something popping up in response to his summons, at last.
It wasn’t what he’d been looking for. Somehow, he knew that much.
“This light,” Paimon curiously inspected it past his shoulder. “It looks similar to those saplings. What could it be?”
He was curious too, despite himself. Why wouldn’t Kusanali say anything?
He’d bite. He had to.
“…Anonymous data?” Just what was this?
“Hey!” the fairy piped up as he moved in, blocking her sight. “Don’t you forget the agreement! You have to share it with us!”
“Shush,” he bit out, restless, uncharacteristically keen. “Just wait.”
The voices he heard next were enough to send his world spinning before he was even sucked into the scene contained within the sapling. They were enough to make him utterly forget the matter at hand, and suddenly feel much, much younger, and much more naive.
He’d last heard them four centuries ago, and he’d never expected to hear them again.