Chapter Text
Much of Natlan’s scenery seemed to be towering forests, mixed with wide expanses of mossy and active lava fields. Sovereign’s Breath was the largest volcano, but it certainly wasn’t the only one. Many smaller volcanoes were spread across the nation, some dormant, others not so much.
The Traveller made their way northwest from Haven, heading for a lakeside village standing on piers known as Lake Elfr. They could easily have taken the boat line that travelled River Elfr as one of the best supply lines in Natlan, but they’d spent the past two days getting to know Haven and Natlan culture; now, they wanted to explore.
The two commissions they’d taken were simple enough. A request to deliver some supplies to a dye shop in Lake Elfr, and a bounty on a large bear that had been getting brave and approaching the village more often. Nothing they hadn’t done before, though Paimon was worried exactly how large the bear was.
Paimon was humming a Natlanean folk song—called something like “The Spark Meets the Sea”—to herself as she followed along behind the Traveller. They climbed over a fallen tree, stopping to pick a few handfuls of redberries from a wild bush on the other side before continuing on. They passed some of the berries to Paimon, who cheered gleefully, only to yelp loudly when the Traveller suddenly pushed her back.
An arrow flew between them, a streak of teal anemo energy trailing behind it. Wide eyed, the Traveller watched as the arrow curved between the trees, circling back to shoot at them again. They took off running, trusting Paimon to disappear into the pocket dimension she occupied when they fought. The arrow followed them, always coming back when they dodged and surviving any elemental attacks they threw at it.
The Traveller vaulted over another fallen tree, trying to think of how to counter the arrow when they noticed a clearing to their right. There appeared to be a few figures dressed in white standing there, arguing voices becoming audible as the Traveller changed their course and headed towards them.
“Nikoti, what the hell?! That was nowhere near its weak point!”
“I can see that, Kalixi. It’s tracking something though. It must be a calibration error—”
“Think of what went wrong after we defeat the ruin guard!”
Bursting into the clearing, the Traveller was quick to take everything in. Two men dressed in the Hedj’s white robes, turning to face an advancing ruin guard, anemo energy collecting around one of them. The Traveller wasted no time in running towards the ruin guard, summoning their sword and using anemo to boost a high leap over the machine.
They spun in the air and landed a short distance behind the ruin guard. As they guessed, the tracking arrow after them had decided to change targets, and it was now embedded in the automation’s weak point. The machine faltered heavily, easily giving enough time for the Traveller to subdue it, tying it up in dendro vines as the men distracted it.
“Hold on, don’t destroy it!” one of the Hedj yelped. “We still need it for testing!”
The Traveller paused, sword raised, and turned to the man with their arms crossed. Paimon burst into existence beside them, huffing in irritation.
“Mind explaining…?” the Traveller asked bluntly.
The first man, the one with the vision, rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Uh, Kalixi, and he’s Nikoti. It’s an experiment. Uh, you seem to have found our homing arrow… It’s supposed to target automation weak spots, but it… uh… didn’t.”
“Not at first, anyway,” Nikoti said, thumb to his chin in thought. “When they leapt over the guard, the arrow changed targets… Perhaps it got confused at first…”
“In what way do I resemble a machine weak point?” the Traveller huffed.
Both men shrugged weakly, offering genuine apologies but clearly still thinking about their experiment. The Traveller rolled their eyes, also noticing that Paimon had managed to save her handful of berries from earlier and was now snacking on them.
They watched as Kalixi moved forwards to pull the arrow from the ruin guard’s head. Now that they could see it, the arrow shaft was made of a dark metal, with an elongated bulb near the back end slightly wider than the rest of the shaft. The thin metal fletching surrounded this bulb, and the stone arrowhead looked wickedly sharp.
“It’s undamaged,” Kalixi said. “Though we should probably try a practice arrowhead for the tests. No need for another malfunction to end in death or serious injury.”
Nikoti smiled sheepishly. “Uh, good idea. But as for what went wrong, I think I got it—”
The Traveller rolled their eyes and walked away.
“Are you sure you’re alright, Traveller?”
“‘Large bear.’” The Traveller stretched their arms above their head, Haven’s wide streets letting them easily move through the people. “That wasn’t just a large bear, that was a large, hungry, vicious bear.”
“Uh, yeah, it was.” Paimon nodded, floating along behind the Traveller. “But on the bright side, we got paid a lot of mora!”
The Traveller hummed. “There is that.” They looked up, noting the dark clouds filling the sky. “It looks like a storm is rolling in. A big one—”
They’re interrupted by a cheerful shout of, “Cap! Hey, Cap, I’m back!”
Further ahead in the middle of the street, they see a ginger head stopping next to a tall, imposing figure, face hidden by a black helmet. The man is further dressed in dark grey Natlanean robes, a deep red spark cloak over his shoulders. The Traveller freezes in place, eyes wide. Paimon ducks behind them, hands pressed to her mouth to cover her yelp.
“Mn?” Il Capitano turns slowly, head tilting as he looks at the ginger. “Ah, Tartaglia. I trust your commission was done properly?”
“Of course! I— Traveller?!”
“Oh fuck.” The Traveller, having tried to subtlety back away, briefly debated making a run for it, but Childe was already walking over, followed by Capitano. In the end, they just sighed heavily and crossed their arms. “Why do you keep following me?”
“I arrived in Natlan first,” Childe huffed, crossing his own arms in return. “I arrived first in Fontaine too, and Liyue. If anything, you’re following me.”
“Hmph. Well, aren’t you supposed to be recovering in Snezhnaya?” Paimon asked accusingly.
A scowl crossed Childe’s expression. “As if I would want to be recovering anywhere near the other harbingers. No thank you. I’m on recovery leave.”
“There’s another harbinger right next to you,” the Traveller deadpanned, raising a brow.
“I am not here as a harbinger,” Capitano intoned stoically. “I am here as a Natlanean, a native in my home nation, as well as an athlete preparing for the Dracarys Games. The only part of my harbinger status I am wielding now is as Tartaglia’s superior to keep him within the acceptable limits while in Natlan. Which— Report, Tartaglia.”
Childe snapped to attention, hands clasped behind his back as he rocked back and forth on his heels, a proud grin on his face. “I delivered the supplies to the Sanctuary as instructed. Ran into a jaguar on the way back and scared it off with no injury to it. Oh, and I ran into Zientu at the Sanctuary. He was visiting a shrine.”
“You ran into who?”
“Zientu. The Traveller’s second companion. I asked him who he was visiting; he said it was his son.”
“...I see.”
“Zientu has kids?” Paimon asked in surprise.
“Apparently.” Childe shrugged before turning back to Capitano and adding, “He also asked me about Columbina. Apparently, she’s been making trips here for negotiation. Some of Sandrone’s replica-ruin machines are with her.”
“Excuse me?” The Traveller couldn’t see Capitano’s face, but they could feel the sharpness in his voice. “Pierro promised no other harbinger would encroach on Natlan. I am the sole harbinger overseeing Natlan-related affairs.”
Childe shrugged sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “Uh… Not anymore, it seems?”
Capitano’s disdain and anger were clear in his tone. “I will be speaking to Pierro about this.”
“Well…” Childe fidgeted a bit, uncharacteristically hesitant. “Not to criticize, Cap, but is there anything you’re doing to obtain the Pyro Gnosis?”
For his trouble, Childe was leveled with a stony glare. At least, the Traveller could assume that that was the expression Capitano was making. Childe ducked his head.
“...Any attempts to locate the gnosis have proven fruitless,” Capitano said slowly. “Do not think I have not searched, Tartaglia.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Cap!” Childe chirped, bouncing right back from his previous hesitance now that he was sure he wasn’t going to get scolded. He tilted his head. “Look, I know about the Guardian being the Dragon Sovereign… Is the gnosis not with him?”
“Are you really talking about Fatui business in front of me?” the Traveller asked with crossed arms.
Childe blinked at them. “It’s not like you aren’t familiar with it by now.”
The Traveller merely sighed heavily in response, wiping a hand down their face.
Capitano tilted his head, nodding once. “Tartaglia makes a fair point. Regardless, I cannot stay and talk. I am just on my way to take care of a blood vine, preferably before this coming storm arrives. You are both welcome to join me.”
“Take care of a what?” The Traveller’s brows furrowed in confusion.
The harbinger seemed amused, bluntly offering, “A tree with a thirst for blood.”
Childe blinked. “…A what now?”
Capitano was definitely amused now, and it carried in his tone. “Kind of like a Snezhnayan cryo bear, if the bear were stuck in place, and had many limbs and a very long reach. Blood vines are rare. Good experience. You will both come along.”
And apparently that was that, as Capitano turned and strode off, leaving no room for argument. The Traveller looked over at Childe, who shrugged.
“Well, it does sound like fun.”
The Traveller raised an unimpressed brow. “Haven’t we established that your sense of what’s fun is invalid?”
Childe shrugged again and started after Capitano, calling over his shoulder, “Your loss!”
The Traveller blinked. They glanced at Paimon, who shrugged, then sighed heavily and started after the two harbingers.
“It probably would be a good opportunity,” Paimon hummed in consideration, following along. “But what if it’s a trap? Paimon knows you’re a good fighter, Traveller, but two harbingers together?”
“Neuvillette said Capitano is known for being a fair fighter. Two against one goes against that.” Paimon made a noise of tentative agreement, and the Traveller went on with a huff. “I can’t believe we’re following a harbinger. If it keeps us on his good side and off his ‘duel on sight’ list, I suppose.”
Paimon nodded hurriedly at that. The Traveller fell into step alongside Childe, a couple strides behind Capitano. Childe grinned knowingly at them, keeping any comments to himself upon seeing the Traveller’s glare. Capitano led them out of the north gate of the city and into the surrounding rainforest, stepping off the road and starting a path of his own. He didn’t say anything as they started north, nor did he seem to care if they kept up.
“Did you know Zientu has kids?” Childe asked eventually, apparently tired of the silence.
The Traveller rolled their eyes but responded. “He never really spoke of his family. If he has a son that’s passed, then I guess I can see why.”
“He made it sound like he has some other kids,” Childe hummed, pensive. “Said he and his remaining children will always miss—”
Childe cut off with a yelp as he was smacked in the face by a thin branch Capitano had pushed from his way. Paimon snickered quietly to herself, making the harbinger send her an indignant glare. That glare turned into a snicker of his own when Paimon was hit by another branch, ensuring the two of them would have matching red marks across their foreheads. Silently, the Traveller slowed their pace a bit to let Capitano get further ahead, hopefully far enough to be out of branch-smacking range. Paimon did the same, but Childe didn’t, seemingly content with following along behind Capitano like a duckling.
“Wow, Childe.” Paimon smirked. “Paimon’s never seen you so starry eyed.”
Childe didn’t even look ashamed as he looked over his shoulder and shrugged. “Hey, Cap’s one of the best warriors I’ve ever known. And he spars against me without holding back. Only like, three times a year, but that just makes it better! He gives me tips too.” The Traveller shared a dry, droll look with their companion, unnoticed by the ginger as he went on. “Actually, out of the harbingers, he’s probably the most trustworthy to be around when injured. If he wanted me dead, I at least trust him to stab me in the front rather than the back, if not wait until I’m fully recovered to challenge me to a proper duel.”
“Mhmm?” the Traveller hummed, raising a brow. “What about the Sanctuary? I haven’t been there yet.”
“It’s a pyramid.” Childe went with the change in topic easily, making a triangle with his hands. “Kind of like the ones in the desert, but the sides are more giant steps than flat faces, and it’s like the top point has been cut off, leaving a flat platform. There’s a shelter up there for offerings—there are steps up to the top—and the entire thing is made of the same stone as the rest of Haven.”
“That stone is a defense structure in of itself,” Capitano finally spoke. He didn’t look back at them, but his low voice carried easily. “It is very hard to damage, tougher than iron and steel, and resistant to a majority of explosions. It is why Hunt battles are allowed within the city without fear of destruction, barring the residential district.”
The Traveller hummed thoughtfully. “Qinlin mentioned there are a few strict rules to the Hunt, but she never said what they are.”
“Mm, that would be because no visitors are ever interested in participating.”
Childe raised his hand. “I’m interested.”
“As expected, Tartaglia.” Capitano nodded in acknowledgement, climbing around a pile of boulders. “It doesn’t particularly matter which tribe you choose to side with. You could also move between them, something like a mercenary of sorts. The rules, however, are absolute. A mistake could mean being banned from ever participating in the Hunt again.”
“Sounds like some serious stuff,” Paimon hummed. “Are the rules meant for safety? Well, as safe as you can get in war as a game, anyway.”
“Indeed.” Capitano stopped and turned to face them. “The biggest rule is do not aim to kill. Bow-users must use paralyzing arrows—arrows with blunt wooden tips—and everyone must be careful. Criminal neglect in the Hunt is thankfully very rare.
“Besides that, other rules stipulate that the grounds of the Sanctuary, the resource storage of Haven, and the area around all residences across the nation are neutral ground where fighting is forbidden; while brawls and minor fights are allowed within cities and villages, large-scale battles are not; do not attack non-participants, such as travellers and those belonging to no tribe; and always be aware of children nearby.”
Childe nodded along, listening intently. The Traveller kind of thought he looked a little too eager, weight shifting from foot to foot as he bounced. Capitano seemed to think so too, judging by the stare being levelled at the ginger. Childe didn’t flinch as he was studied, and the silence stretched for a long moment. Not-so-distantly, a roll of thunder echoed in the sky.
“…Where is your Vision, Tartaglia?” the older harbinger asked eventually.
“The Traveller has it.”
Childe shot them a grin, and they were suddenly very thankful that Zientu had talked them out of giving the Vision to Arlecchino. Do not trust the relationships between the harbingers, he’d said. The Knave wanted to save Fontaine, so she worked alongside us. She is not on our side. Not indefinitely.
Capitano seemed confused. “…Why?”
“It was being finicky for me in Fontaine. I didn’t want it faltering in the middle of a fight when I was relying on it, so I gave it to them for safekeeping.”
The older harbinger seemed to blink slowly behind his visor. “…Visions do not get finicky, Tartaglia. Whatever was happening with your Vision, I hope you are not taking it lightly.”
“Not at all, Cap.” The Traveller idly wondered if Childe had noticed he’d fallen into a perfect parade rest, gloved hands clasped at the small of his back “Actually, I think it should be good now. No more surprises. I’m not feeling off like I was, not since that little abyss trip I was thrown into anyway, so—”
Childe shrugged. The Traveller dug the Vision out from their interdimensional bag, handing it over when the harbinger held a hand out. It glowed a brilliant blue and Childe inhaled sharply, clutching it to his chest as though in pain. He stumbled for a moment before his knees buckled, sending him heavily to the dirt. The Traveller quickly kneeled next to him, just reaching out a concerned hand when the harbinger’s tension eased and he started laughing.
“Uh oh,” Paimon hummed. “Paimon thinks he’s finally lost it.”
“Not quite.” Childe’s eyes opened, gleeful as he looked down at his Vision. “Something’s different. It feels better. Stronger, somehow. And I’m not in pain anymore.”
“You were in pain before?” the Traveller asked, raising a brow and shoving aside any thought of the Hydro Sovereign’s Authority.
“Lot of internal damage. Result of using my Foul Legacy for so long.” Childe waved a hand dismissively. His grin was wide as he clipped the Vision to his belt. “My Vision’s never healed me like this though. It felt like burning for a second, but now I feel better than I have in ages. Cap, Cap, will you spar against me now?”
“Perhaps, Tartaglia,” Capitano intoned, ignoring Childe’s resulting cheer and continuing. “The blood vine is just up ahead. Both of you will work together to destroy it. I will watch and step in if needed.”
The Traveller huffed in annoyance. “Really? Isn’t it dangerous?”
Capitano looked at them. “Of course, but I have heard you are a strong fighter, and I know Tartaglia’s skill. This should be only moderately challenging. Just don’t bleed, or you will excite it.”
“Uh, up ahead is an active lava field,” Paimon said hesitantly, peering through the trees. “How is there a tree out there? There aren’t any nutrients for it…”
“Indeed, there is not. Why do you think it has developed a taste for blood?”
Paimon paled a little. Another roll of thunder boomed lowly. The Traveller just sighed heavily, briefly wondering what they’d gotten themselves into.
In contrast, Childe merely shrugged, rolling his shoulders. “Whatever it takes to survive, right? How do we kill it?”
“Stab it in the heart. Enclosed in the trunk and usually located near the base of the tree.”
The Traveller sighed again. “The tree has a heart. Of course it does. Is it too late to back out?”
“Yes. Go. Watch out for the branches. And potentially lightning, the storm is getting closer.”
Childe didn’t need to be told twice. He took off in a sprint, summoning his bow as he went. Paimon gave the Traveller a wish of good luck before disappearing, leaving them to start after Childe.
Not far ahead, the trees gave away to a wide expanse of black lava rock and glowing red lava streams. Across the lava field stood Sovereign's Breath, belching a thin, steady stream of smoke into the air. Halfway across was the tree, tall, twisting, and surrounded by bones. It had no leaves, easily revealing its ash-grey bark and its many finger-like, whip-thin branches. Those branches moved quickly, reaching for Childe as he dodged and weaved around the tree.
“Oh, what the hell,” the Traveller mumbled.
Nonetheless, they continued forwards, leaving Capitano at the edge of the lava field. The blood vine seemed to sense their approach, as it sent some of its branches whipping towards them. They ran forwards, ducking under the first of the branches and swinging at more with their sword. The blade did little more than chip the branches, hardened wood against steel.
Childe was still using his bow, firing at a few red sacs hanging exposed high on the trunk. One of them burst open, spraying blood onto the ground beneath, as well as onto Childe himself. The tree seemed to falter, pulling some of its branches from lashing out to instead soaking up the large puddle.
“This is one of the weirdest things I’ve ever fought,” Childe laughed, dodging more branches and splitting another blood sac open.
The Traveller said nothing in reply. They leapt over the next several attacks and infused their sword with a rush of hydro energy. When it made contact with the next branch, it managed to cut deeper, and the entire tree seemed to shudder. The branch retreated, trailing limply across the ground.
“Unbelievable,” the Traveller huffed. “A tree is weak to water.”
“Good news for us,” Childe called in response, dismissing his bow and summoning twin hydro daggers. “You think this thing has ever even seen water before?”
“It doesn’t have eyes, Childe,” the Traveller yelled back as they both started attacking the branches in earnest.
From there, it got easier. More and more branches retreated when slashed, curling up near the trunk of the tree. They recovered after a few moments though, and the more they attacked, the quicker the branches began to recover.
“We need to kill this thing,” the Traveller snarled, slashing an arc of hydro in front of them.
“Couldn’t agree more, Traveller.” Childe grunted as he blocked one of the branches with a conjured hydro shield. “You cut it down, I’ll handle the branches.”
The Traveller nodded and dove towards the trunk. They pushed more hydro into their blade and used all their strength in a harsh slash against the base of the blood vine. The entire tree shuddered violently. In their peripheral vision, the Traveller saw Childe deflecting the branches heading for them, trading his twin daggers for a double-ended spear.
Panting, the Traveller kept working at the tree, cutting away the trunk until the weight of the tree became too much and it came crashing down. As soon as it did, the attacking branches fell lifelessly to the ground, blood bubbling from the many slashes exposing red insides. In the center of the stump, a little lower than the Traveller had cut, was nestled a pulsing red… thing. More blood sluggishly seeped from the exposed top of the stump, trickling down the sides and running rivulets down the bark.
“Creepy,” Childe hummed, observing what must be the blood vine’s heart. “I think I’m glad we don’t have these in Snezhnaya. Cap was right though, it’s a good experience.”
“I don’t ever want to see another one of these things,” the Traveller mumbled in response, raising their sword and plunging it into the heart.
Just as they did, there was a booming clap of thunder and rain came pouring down. The droplets were heavy, pelting down in hard sheets with no further warning.
Paimon burst into existence in a shower of stars, grimacing as she looked at the stump. “Ew. Paimon’s glad she wasn’t around to see how that fight went.”
“At least the rain will wash us off,” Childe hummed happily, giving himself a once-over as said rain began clearing the blood covering him. “No clean up needed. Nice. Cap, how’d we do?”
The Traveller turned to see that Capitano had made his way over. He examined the stump of the tree where the heart had stopped pulsing and the fallen tree had lost all signs of life.
“Very good, considering neither of you know anything about blood vines. No injury and a decent time. Yes, very good. A question, then: if the tree had been immune to hydro, how would you have proceeded?”
The Traveller hummed, tilting their head and deciding to humour the harbinger. “Try other elemental energies to see the result?”
“Pummel it until it dies?” Childe added. “Bursting those blood sacs had a pretty good effect.”
Capitano nodded. “Both answers are good. Though Tartaglia’s way would take a lot of energy, it is also the only option for every single-person team besides the Traveller. That is why, if you are not confident in your physical prowess, you bring a team. Blood vines are not all weak to hydro. This one was because it was not used to water. It likely would have been immune to pyro because it grew on a lava field. Understand?”
“You can’t perfectly prepare to deal with a blood vine because different ones have different weaknesses,” the Traveller hummed. “You can only guess what elements to use, and bring a big blade.”
“Correct. I have decided.” Capitano nodded to himself, looking from the Traveller to Childe and back again. “I will train both of you personally. Both of you are new to Natlan, there is much to learn and much to challenge yourself with. Your final test will be a two-against-one spar against me in the stadium of the Dracarys Games in three month’s time.”
Predictably, Childe brightened eagerly, eyes bright with excitement. “Really? You’re not joking, are you, Cap?”
“I am not, Tartaglia. My condition for you is that you sever your connection to the abyss, or at least lessen it. That parasite will kill you eventually, and I rather like you alive.”
Childe’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth only for nothing to come out. He seemed torn now, pursing his lips with a huff.
“I have to think about it,” he finally grumbled. “Foul Legacy has saved me enough times that I need to weigh the pros and cons.”
“I understand. Traveller?”
The Traveller squinted suspiciously. “Why would you offer to train your enemy? What’s my condition? I join the Fatui?”
“Again, I am not here as a harbinger,” Capitano responded drolly. “In addition, I prefer my fights to be challenging. So, if we ever engage in true combat, I will at least know I will get a real thrill.”
A huff passed the Traveller’s lips, and they crossed their arms. If Capitano was being truthful and held no ulterior motive, then it would be a very good opportunity. It came with a high risk, but it had a high reward.
“...Fine. Paimon, you’ll have to avenge me if I end up murdered.”
Paimon’s eyes widened, looking between the Traveller and Capitano. “Uh, Paimon can try, but she doesn’t like her chances at all.”
“There is no use in dedicating some of my time to training you if I plan to murder you later,” Capitano said plainly. “Come find me when you are ready to begin. In the meantime, I believe we should be returning to Haven to escape this downpour.”
As if emphasizing his point, a bolt of blinding lightning chose that moment to strike across the sky, followed closely by a crack of thunder.
“Actually,” the Traveller hummed evasively, “I haven’t been out this way yet. I’m going to explore a bit.”
“In the storm?” Childe asked, tilting his head in concern.
Capitano merely looked at them. “Very well, if you trust your skill. Be warned, there are no teleport points around here. You will have to walk back to Haven.”
The Traveller nodded. “Understood.”
Capitano nodded once in return and then he was walking away. Childe threw a quick “be careful” at the Traveller and then followed after the older harbinger without a backwards glance, already chattering away. The Traveller watched them disappear into the rainforest before they turned towards Sovereign’s Breath.
“Are we going to look for the Pyro Dragon’s den?” Paimon asked as they started off. “Didn’t Neuvillette say we could ask Xbalanque for help?”
The Traveller hummed, grimacing slightly. “I don’t mean to ignore Neuvillette’s advice, but there’s something about Xbalanque that I don’t trust.”
“Mn, Paimon can agree with that. And he’s rude. Is there something else on your mind, Traveller?”
“Only all the weird little things we’ve noticed since being here.” The Traveller pushed their wet hair from their face. “Remember I mentioned the possibility of Zientu being the Archon the other day?”
Paimon nodded, then frowned. “You really think Zientu’s been lying about who he is?”
“Not maliciously, at least, but there are some things that don’t fully make sense.”
Up close, Sovereign’s Breath towered over them. It was massive, standing high above everything in sight. The Traveller looked up at it and hummed in consideration. Trying to find a way to avoid climbing all the way to the top, they tried looking with elemental sight, tilting their head curiously when a faint trail of hydro appeared, coming from their bag. When they reached inside, they found that it was coming from a small glass vial.
“Is that Neuvillette’s vial?” Paimon asked, floating closer. “What do you see, Traveller?”
“There’s… something attracting it.”
The Traveller held up the vial, looking at the trail it emitted like a compass pointing them east. They shared a look with their companion, shrugged, and started off in the indicated direction. Not far away, nestled at the base of the volcano and hidden behind a sharp rock outcropping, was a small, cramped tunnel blocked by a pyro barrier.
It was solid beneath their hand when they pushed against it. The Traveller hummed, then held the vial of Hydro Authority closer. The entire barrier rippled and thinned, falling away beneath the Traveller’s hand. They smiled triumphantly and stepped through, Paimon following them with a cheer. When they took the vial away, the barrier condensed again.
“This must be the place,” Paimon said, peering down the twisting tunnel before them. “It’s hot in here.”
“This is an active volcano, Paimon.”
“What if it erupts while we’re in here?”
“This lava tunnel seems old. I don’t sense any pyro energy here, so I don’t think we’ll be in trouble. If I’m wrong, we run.”
Paimon laughed weakly as they started walking. “Uh, how about you tell Paimon about what you noticed with Zientu?”
The Traveller shrugged. “When we were walking to Haven, Zientu said the Pyro Dragon disappeared. He didn’t mention the legend about the duel against Murata.”
“That story is common too.” Paimon nodded. “Everyone in Natlan seems to have at least heard of it. Zientu didn’t mention his family, that’s part of your suspicions too, isn’t it?
“Mhmm.” The tunnel sloped upwards, snaking its way through the volcano. “Just that isn’t incriminating, but Xbalanque used family to get rid of him quickly. We haven’t seen Zientu since, but it’s more Xbalanque’s actions that are weird. He seems to hate people, so why would he interfere when Zientu was perfectly happy to accompany us?”
“Huh. Paimon isn’t sure. He did seem to have some respect for Zientu too, and the Talon of Power said there was some mutual agreement between Xbalanque and the Guardian.”
The Traveller nodded in agreement. “And the most interesting thing: remember how Zientu told us in Sumeru about his love?”
“The one with the Hydro Vision who died a long time ago? Paimon remembers that. Paimon still feels sad for Zientu. Losing someone you love isn’t easy.”
“Isn’t not. But did Zientu ever say they used a Vision? Or how long ago they died?”
Paimon paused, her eyes widening. “Oh, Paimon gets it! If Zientu’s lost love was the Hydro Dragon, then that means he’s really Arcaeos!”
Paimon’s raised voice echoed down the tunnel. The pair rounded a turn and came to a fork where the path split left and right. The Traveller looked down both paths but with the twisting path, they couldn’t see where they led. In the end, they turned down the left tunnel and continued onwards.
“Do we confront him?” Paimon asked. She frowned suddenly. “But if Zientu is the Pyro Dragon… We were just in Fontaine. Neuvillette has no idea where the Pyro Dragon is. Why didn’t he say anything?”
The Traveller shook their head. “I don’t know. It could be any number of reasons— Oh, wow.”
The tunnel opened into a large, spacious cavern. A thin lava stream fell from the right wall into a simmering pool below, casting a gentle red glow and warming the air. Along the left side was a collection of items, large and small. A giant hydro-constructed statue of two intertwined dragons was the most notable, sitting alone in a space cleared for it. Nearby was a human-sized bookshelf and a writing desk, surface covered in what appeared to be letters.
The feeling in the air made the Traveller step back. It was thick with silence and heavy with a lingering grief. It didn’t feel like anyone had been to the den in years, but the air hadn’t changed.
“We should go,” the Traveller said softly. “This isn’t our place.” They pointed to a large tunnel opening across the den. “That must lead to the main lava chamber and the mouth of the volcano. Let’s go back and see what’s down the other tunnel.”
Paimon nodded, casting one last hesitant look around the den. “Yeah. Paimon doesn’t like the air here. Poor Pyro Dragon…”
The pair retreat from the den, going back to the fork in the tunnel. The right path led deeper down into Sovereign’s Breath. The air grew hotter, causing a thin sheen of sweat to form on the Traveller’s skin. They kept pushing forwards regardless. The tunnel was long, but it soon opened into another huge cavern within the volcano.
There appeared to be no ceiling, and from somewhere high above poured a wide, steady stream of lava that filled a moat circling the edges of the cave. There was only one thing here: the massive body of a pyro dragon—the Pyro Dragon, it must be—floating suspended and unmoving in the center of the room.
The dragon’s scales appeared iridescent and red, sharp horns on his head and a row of spikes down his back. He had four wings, one pair connected at his shoulders and a smaller, minor pair rooted further down his spine. They were spread slightly, letting the Traveller see the line of lighter-red, malformed scales that cut through both wings on the right side, as well as the minor wing and part of the major wing’s webbing on the left side. Other scars littered the dragon’s body, long-since healed but leaving behind twisted lines of pale scales.
Pyro energy filled the cavern. The dragon’s eyes were closed as though merely sleeping, yet the absence of breath said otherwise. There was no sign of life in the Pyro Dragon.
“Well,” the Traveller mumbled, “I was not expecting this.”
Thunder boomed over the Fireside Estate. Rain fell heavily on the roof and lightning flashed. The clouds almost seemed to glow green. Jiazhen knew almost everyone in Haven would be hidden away in their homes, in a storm as bad as this. Almost everyone, because he knew one person who would not be.
He found his father on the lounge balcony, sitting cross-legged under the wrath of the storm, his eyes closed and his head tilted upwards. He was absolutely soaked, water dripping from his hair and his clothes.
“Father,” Jiazhen called from just inside the balcony doors, “You will catch a cold if you stay out anymore. Pyro energy can only do so much.”
“I know, Jiazhen,” his father hummed in response. “Just a little longer.”
“Mn.”
Jiazhen looked up at the pouring rain, sighing quietly to himself and removing his cloak from his shoulders, draping it over a nearby armchair. He took one last glance at the flickering fire pit in the center of the lounge before he stepped outside and moved to sit next to the Guardian, leaning into his side. He smiled as his father said nothing of it, a faint smile crossing the other’s lips as well. The hissing steam rising from the Guardian’s skin didn’t bother him. He was used to it, the way the rain clashed with his father’s energy when he so chose.
“Does the rain bring you any stories today?” Jiazhen asked.
Instead of replying, his father wrapped an arm around his shoulders, extending his power and letting Jiazhen feel for himself the emotion the water carried. The droplets against his skin turned to steam, the pyro energy transforming the hydro into something his father—and by extension, Jiazhen himself—could understand.
He felt… joy. Sadness. Peace. A contentment that surrounded him. A soft hum of oh, it’s storming heavily now, good thing I didn’t hang out the laundry. The rain shared its memories gently, cool fingers on the edge of Jiazhen’s senses.
His father hummed. “The rain tells me about the people of our home. It tells me that they are happy. It brings me stories from across our world, memories carried gently from the far corners of Inazuma, Snezhnaya, Fontaine, and everywhere in between.”
Jiazhen leaned closer against his father, content to sit under the storm with him. Jiazhen had always been taller and bulkier than the body next to him, but his father’s care and presence always managed to make him feel smaller somehow. Protected. Safe.
Even in the pouring rain, his father was warm.
After a long moment, the Guardian opened his eyes, turning a fiery red gaze to the second ember. “Could you explain something to me, Jiazhen, beloved son?”
“Anything I know, Father.”
“Why is the Eleventh Harbinger in our nation?”
“Ah. Him.” A strange sort of smile crossed Jiazhen’s lips. Amused, yet hesitant. “Well… He first arrived when stories of your journey to the land of lightning first began circling. He claimed to be wanting to meet with Capitano. He accepted the vows, so Qinlin granted him Vision usage and the truth of the Hunt. He met with the Captain, and then he was asking Suvroa and I to spar with him. He seems to enjoy being here.”
“I would imagine so, especially after the trouble in Fontaine.”
“Mn.” Jiazhen sighed peacefully as warm fingers pulled him in to rest his head on his father’s shoulder. “He arrived here the second time a couple weeks before you came home, Father. This time, he asked to be trained by the Pyro Sovereign, and by other dragons. If we try, we may be able to persuade him from the Cryo Archon, and from the abyssal touch that lingers on him.”
“I see… That could be very powerful. However, he would not abandon his family in Snezhnaya. For all his eagerness in fighting, Childe’s first priority is his family.”
“Yet it seems as though the Rooster is ready to hold them hostage if needed to control Childe,” Jiazhen pointed out. “I can think of a number of Wedjat that would enjoy the thrill of sneaking into the nation of ice.”
“Indeed… I will think about it.”
“Have you thought about the Hydro Dragon?”
The Guardian sighed. “Of course, Suvroa told you about that.” Jiazhen hummed in response, and his father went on. “I have mulled it over. I have not reached an answer, but I also cannot help but feel that it will soon be taken out of my control. The Traveller is determined.”
“Letting the Traveller decide for you will not prepare you for what may come, Father. Columbina will not stop pushing, and she brings more and more of Sandrone’s machines with her each time. The tension is building. The Hydro Dragon could help. I would love to see you have your mate back.”
Jiazhen was left with no response. He didn’t really expect one. The Guardian closed his eyes again, turning his face skywards. The rain continued pouring, the steady sound of it interspersed with rolling thunder. The balcony was slick with water, and in the distance, trees swayed with the wind.
While messy, this was peaceful.
Jiazhen looked up when the pattering rain against his skin suddenly stopped. A scarlet-scaled wing was extended over their heads, making the Guardian hum in disappointment.
“Come inside, both of you.” Qinlin’s voice was quiet, but it was an order all the same. She cared deeply, but she was never exactly soft. “You will both be sick in the morning otherwise. Dairet is making soup and Suvroa is stoking the fire.”
His father sighed. Together, he and Jiazhen heaved themselves up and out of the rain. Jiazhen was soaked to the bone, but his father easily fixed that, skillfully using his power to dry and warm them both. With a final, tight hug, the Guardian parted from him to move and greet Qinlin and Suvroa. Dairet arrived a moment later, carrying a basket of bowls and a soup pot.
Jiazhen smiled as he took in the room. Yes, this was peaceful.
The rain over Fontaine was gentle. A natural shower not caused by the Hydro Dragon’s sadness. It fell lightly against Neuvillette’s skin as he stood on his private balcony, taking in the stories it held. Deep beneath the waves, the primordial sea sang to him, a lulling song that Neuvillette found himself echoing.
The setting sun was visible despite the rain, casting a blinding marigold on the horizon. A faint rainbow hung delicately in the sky, the perfect, picturesque, Fontainean evening.
It was beautiful and peaceful, and Neuvillette loathed to spend the evening alone. He wanted to hope that soon, he would not be so alone any longer. Even without definite confirmation of the identity of Natlan’s Guardian, he was tempted to visit the nation. It had been five hundred years since he’d last made the trip. Furina had been saying that he deserved a vacation.
“A real one,” she’d said. “Not half a day. No one calls that a vacation.”
“I need to take care of Fontaine,” he had argued over their weekly tea.
He hadn’t wanted to impose on her. Not when she was finally getting her own life. But he’d left her a letter saying she could come to him for anything at all, and her immediate request was that they continue those weekly lunches over tea. She’d said it was something she didn’t want to change, and Neuvillette didn’t know if it was for her benefit, or if she was worried about him.
“Maybe so,” Furina had replied. “But Fontaine is not going to fall if its leader takes a week off. I’m sure even Dragon Sovereigns need breaks.”
Neuvillette wasn’t quite sure how to argue that. He wasn’t sure about a lot, in his personal life. Perhaps that was why he invested everything into his work.
He sighed softly, turning his head upwards and feeling the rain fall lightly against his cheeks.
“Water holds memories,” he mused to himself. He waved a hand, and drops of water pulled themselves from the gentle downpour, hovering in the air and forming the shapes of swimming fish. “That’s what brings it the flavour it holds. Maybe one day, it will tell me the story of you, my heart. Where have you gone? Are you even still here? And if you are… Do you still remember?”
Neuvillette had hope cradled gently in his hands. A soft, flickering flame, an old bond faded in the depths of his soul.
He was so tired of being alone.