Chapter Text
24th Day of Summer
Afternoon
It's been so hot lately. My clothes cling to my sweat and skin most of the time. Patrolling with Master Tighnari has been harder than usual. I try to keep pace, but my body keeps reminding me of its limits. Summer always makes the Eleazar worse.
I want to keep working. I really do. I feel like I'm so close to finally becoming a proper Forest Ranger. But I've had to stop and rest again. It feels like I'm letting everyone down.
Sometimes I think about how long it's been since I first came here from Mondstadt. Years of training, of trying to prove myself. And still, I'm nearly twenty with no promotion. If I weren't so weak, maybe things would be different by now.
But… even if I can't keep up, I still want to try.
Collei's pen slipped from her fingers, clattering against the tree trunk as a deep sigh dragged her body into a slump. Writing in this diary had helped her over the years, in its own strange way, but it also made her acutely aware of her own patterns, seeing the same struggles repeated in her words, in the movement of her hands.
It felt counterproductive. Pages filled with endless words never seemed to lead anywhere. Most of the problems she wrote about wouldn't even exist if she'd been healthy. What if scenarios of her as a normal, perfectly happy person.
But Collei was not a normal or perfectly happy person. She had to accept that.
She gathered her things, tucked them into her woven shoulder bag, and quietly left her secluded hollow, making her way back to Gandharva Ville. Upon arriving, she greeted the other rangers with a wide, cheerful smile, but the moment her door clicked shut behind her, it disappeared. Her face settled into its default.
A hollow melancholy, just slightly less miserable than a frown, or scowl.
Collei had always been two people. The cheerful optimist others saw, and the gloomy one she kept for herself. It bothered her—the two-facedness of it, the way she lied with a smile every single day. She truly did care, she truly did try. But the girl she showed the world would not reconcile with the real one underneath, whose scaled skin bore the mark of something she hadn't chosen.
And all of it was because of him.
Il Dottore. The Second of the Fatui Harbingers. The man who had, to put it plainly, ruined her life.
When she was small, her parents had been desperate, so desperate they sought help from a seer, begging for a cure for the Eleazar slowly claiming their daughter.
The seer was a Fatui agent in disguise. And Collei had been delivered into a laboratory run by a Harbinger, where she was subjected to horrors she still couldn't put clean language to. Her Eleazar had been managed, to some extent. But what it wasn’t worth what it cost her.
The worst part was that her trauma didn't care about logic.
In her worst moments, there were whispers. The nagging thought that the harbinger might one day demand her return. That he had festered in some quiet anger at her escape, seeing it as a personal insult, as though she had disrespected a successful treatment. It was illogical. She knew that. In the grand scheme of things, she was nothing to him.
And yet she couldn't stop wishing for his death. Maybe then her shoulders would finally relax. Maybe then her mind would stop convincing her she was merely surviving.
Another thought haunted the quiet moments too.
That her mind was already broken, and she was simply doing a very good job of hiding how hollow she actually was.
***
The next few days were suffocatingly hot, and Collei was practically bedridden. Whatever plans she had were suspended until the weather relented. Most days she didn't even leave her room, if she could help it.
Tighnari knew, of course. He always knew. He was the one who checked on her most often, providing care with the particular brand of bluntness that somehow still felt like kindness. It was the other rangers and trainees she wanted to hide from. She didn't want to be the sick, troubled one, any more than she already was.
One such morning, when Tighnari came by with a tray of food she hadn't been able to get herself, her frustration finally came loose.
“I want to get back to my duties,” she grumbled from the bed.
“When you feel more capable, you may,” he said simply. He'd known this conversation was coming, this wasn’t the first time.
“If the heat is what's making me feel this way, I may as well say goodbye to any kind of work until summer ends,” she muttered, sitting up to take the tray. “It's not like the rainforest is known for being cool.”
Tighnari was quiet for a moment. It was a dead-end conversation, and they both knew it. She wasn't wrong to be frustrated. There just wasn't a solution.
“What makes me happiest isn't you working yourself to the bone,” he said finally. “It's watching you take care of yourself, even when that's the harder thing to do.”
“You're right.” she smiled, her voice bright and cheerful and entirely performed. “You always give the best advice. I should focus on my strength so I can give it my best when I’m ready!”
She didn't mean it.
Night was her real escape. Everyone else asleep, no one watching, the temperature finally bearable. She leaned over a roped guard rail at the edge of the platform and let her body rest, hoping to catch some trace of a breeze in the heavy humidity.
She wondered, not for the first time, whether she would ever actually be promoted. It wasn't that being a trainee shamed her—there was nothing wrong with it. But years of trying and seeing no result felt like its own particular cruelty. Maybe she was being selfish. After all, they'd given her so much. Good care, a place to live, a purpose. And here she was, sulking because she couldn't get promoted when she was the problem to begin with. Her fault for being this frail, as delicate as a dandelion in a rainstorm.
She'd grown so much since arriving as a child. She just hadn't grown stronger. It was almost like she'd traded quality of life for height.
She stayed like that a while before pulling herself from the rail and heading back to her room. But just before she reached the door, her ears caught something—movement in the bushes below headquarters. Her first instinct was an animal. Then came footsteps, deliberate and fast, climbing the stairs.
She ducked behind the side of the building.
The figure who arrived on the platform was shorter, tanned, elaborately dressed, carrying a large polearm. She recognized him immediately.
What is Cyno doing here?
He and Tighnari were close—she knew that—but at this hour? Glancing at Tighnari's quarters, she saw the warm glow of a lantern through the window. Awake, then. Cyno knocked. He was let in shortly after.
Collei narrowed her eyes. From her hiding spot, the silhouettes of the two men moved against the wall. The temptation to listen pressed against her conscience like a thumb on a bruise.
Eavesdropping? How rude. Tighnari has done nothing but be kind to her. And in return, she'd invade his privacy?
With a firm expression, she turned and started back to her room, ignoring the slight stumble in her step.
I don't need to know what they're talking about. That is not my place.
She repeated it to herself. She believed it, for a moment. But the curiosity was hot and bright, and she hadn't slept well in two days, while being trapped indoors for what felt like a week, and within seconds she found herself creeping toward the lit window with her heart climbing up her throat.
She positioned herself carefully beside the thin bamboo door. Cyno was a general with inhuman sharp senses, so she kept still, balancing heel to toe, knees bent, her clothing held away from her body as best she could.
“I just worry about the potential of this situation,” Cyno said.
"It really is troubling,” Tighnari replied. “The Akademiya sages trying something with Lesser Lord Kusanali…” He mused out-loud, “That alone isn't surprising. But with this recent development, things could take a turn for the worse. Word has traveled. Chaos follows. And I fear Sumeru is next.”
“Do you have any idea what the Fatui might have in store?”
Collei's breath caught. The word hit her like cold water, but she immediately collected herself. Pressing her palms together, nails biting into her skin.
"In all honesty… no" Tighnari admitted. "Thankfully they haven't arrived yet. The boats won't reach the harbor for about two weeks. But there's a Harbinger involved, and that in an of itself changes the matter. Also—word is the Traveler is in Sumeru City. If I were you, I'd expect a visit soon."
"Ah. If they're anything like what's been said of them, they'll be a great help to whatever comes next."
"It will be necessary..."
A brief pause. Then the sound of Cyno taking his leave, hardly a whisper of noise in his wake.
Collei stood motionless behind the wall for a long time after.
Her hands were still shaking.
***
36th Day of Summer
Morning
Ever since I overheard that conversation, or I guess I should say eavesdropped... really, but it doesn't matter—I've been fine. I mean, it's not like it's anything concrete. Just talk. A possibility. A tiny chance. I shouldn't even be this worked up. I've handled worse. I'm stronger now.
I've moved on.
Haven't I?
But I just can't stop shaking. Archons, it's so stupid... I keep telling myself I'm overreacting, but my body doesn't listen. It remembers for me. Every time I close my eyes, I swear I can feel it again, not just the pain, though sometimes that's there too—but him. His presence. Like a shadow crawling under my skin.
His voice isn't real. I know that. But sometimes it feels real enough. It surfaces in the middle of ordinary moments, telling me things I can't unhear no matter how hard I try.
That I'll never be free. That this life I've built is nothing more than an illusion. A vacation, he calls it. A blissful little break before I end up right back where I started.
It's not true. It's not.
I've changed. I'm stronger now. I've moved on.
Haven't I?
The archons must have answered her, because the following week brought cooler temperatures. Collei's flare-ups subsided. She was allowed back on patrol, under supervision, paired with Tighnari himself, in case of exhaustion or accidents. She didn't complain. She talked cheerfully about how much she loved spending time with her mentor.
Inside, she seethed.
The arrangement did offer one advantage though, she could pry, carefully, into what Tighnari might know about Sumeru City. It was a double-edged thing. Guilt still gnawed at her for eavesdropping, but the hope of hearing something—anything—that might accidentally reassure her was enough.
"So, how are things in Sumeru City?" she asked, casual as she could manage, trudging along a muddy path deep in the rainforest. "Anything new going on?"
"Not at the moment." Tighnari said, his tone careful. "Things aren't completely fine. But there are people trying to work things out."
The fact that he would mention anything at all makes her raise an eyebrow.
"Work out what things?"
"Nothing I'm privy to. There's a reason I declined a post in the city." A pause. "Too much chaos."
And yet you're still getting answers from inside sources, Collei thought, and said nothing.
"But don't you think—"
A sound from the jungle cut her off. Tighnari's ears were already up. They moved toward it together, and soon came across a strange scene: a small, panicked creature fluttering in the air above an unconscious blonde woman sprawled on the forest floor.
The creature—Paimon, it introduced itself, explained in a frantic rush that the woman, Lumine, had collapsed after inhaling some unknown fragrance drifting from a nearby cave.
Tighnari acted immediately. He administered treatment, then carried Lumine back to Gandharva Ville himself.
"Are you sure it's not serious? She's been out for a long time now…" Paimon fretted once they'd settled in, the young woman was now lying on a medical bed, Collei patting her head with a towel.
"She just needs rest," Tighnari said. "Nothing life threatening."
"Master is extremely knowledgeable," Collei added, in her best cheerful voice. "If he says she'll be alright, she will be."
When Lumine finally stirred, Collei gave her the standard introduction on instinct. She was at Gandharva Ville, Forest Rangers... trainee.... found you on patrol. She kept her voice bright and measured, the same script she always used. It was only later, as the days passed, that the script fell away on its own.
Lumine was the Traveler. The same one Tighnari and Cyno had spoken of. And she was kind—genuinely, quietly kind—in a way that Collei hadn't expected. The kind of kind that didn't ask anything of you. Even when Collei lashed out accidentally in a PTSD invoked moment of fear, startled and ashamed of herself afterward, Lumine and Paimon simply moved on without holding it against her.
Despite everything, Collei's resolve to stay quiet about the Fatui crumbled one afternoon as they sat on a mossy log sharing lunch.
"So… have you heard anything about what's going on in Sumeru City?" she asked, feigning a lightness she didn't feel.
Lumine shook her head. "I just arrived. There's a lot I don't know yet."
Collei hesitated. Then leaned closer. "Promise me you won't tell anyone. I'm not supposed to know this."
Lumine's expression sharpened with interest. "I promise," she said, and placed a hand over her heart.
Collei checked that they were alone.
"The Fatui are coming to Sumeru," she murmured. "Led by a Harbinger. I heard Tighnari talking about it with Cyno."
"The Fatui?!"
"Shh," Collei hissed.
"Sorry." Lumine lowered her voice. "Who's Cyno?"
"A general. He has connections in the city."
Lumine frowned. "I don't even want to imagine what they might be planning. A Harbinger…"
"That's what I'm worried about," Collei said quietly. "There's a chance it could be him. This is his home country, after all."
She had already told Lumine and Paimon about her past—the experimentation, the Second Harbinger, the laboratory. It hadn't been easy. But it had felt necessary, somehow.
Lumine's expression softened. "I don't blame you for being scared. I've had my share of run ins with Harbingers, but nothing like what you've been through." She paused. "But it's not a certainty it's him. The higher-ranking Harbingers tend to avoid getting too directly involved."
"Have you ever come across Dottore?" Collei asked.
"No," Lumine said slowly. "I've met the Eleventh, the Sixth, the Eighth—but not the Second. I've heard of him, though."
Collei had found a strange kind of peace, over the years, in pretending he no longer existed. She'd heard nothing of him since her escape. The possibility of learning something—even something small—filled her with a mix of dread and something she couldn't cleanly name.
"I learned some things while babysitting the Eleventh's younger brother," Lumine said, with a wry expression.
"You were—" Collei stared at her. "You were babysitting a Harbinger's brother?"
"It was a frustrating situation at the time. Looking back, it's almost funny."
Collei could not imagine finding any Harbinger-adjacent situation funny. She tried to picture what it would have been like to be at the mercy of someone like the Eleventh rather than Dottore, and the thought left her quietly, painfully adrift.
"I also came across one of Dottore's old ruin guard facilities in Liyue," Lumine continued.
"So he was interested in ruin guards at some point..." Collei muttered. "He's always had diverse experiments."
"You can't expect consistency from a Harbinger," Lumine said. "They're driven by the Tsaritsa's orders and their own appetites. With their resources, they can do almost anything."
"I just wish he'd stuck to the robots," Collei murmured absentmindedly.
Lumine said nothing. She seemed to understand, without being told, that there was nowhere useful for the conversation to go from there.
***
50th Day of Summer
Just After Lunch
Lumine plans to leave soon. After she spoke with Tighnari about Lesser Lord Kusanali, he pointed her toward someone in Sumeru City who might help. I support her completely. I'll miss her terribly.
Having her here has brightened things in ways I didn't expect. Our morning talks became the part of my day I looked forward to most. I would lie awake at night sometimes, eyes squeezed shut, dreaming of a life like hers—full of motion, full of purpose, unshackled by disease.
I don't know what I'll do without that, for a while.
When the day came, Lumine's blonde pixie cut disappeared into the forest, and an aching void settled in Collei's chest. It was as if she'd taken something with her, not quite a piece of Collei's heart, but something adjacent to it.
"I wish I could be an adventurer like Lumine," Collei said that evening, over tea with Tighnari.
"The life of an adventurer offers great rewards," he said, "but only for those willing to risk everything."
"Maybe if I wasn't sick, I could consider it."
Tighnari said nothing. The silence had its own weight.
Collei shifted the subject, keeping her voice light. "But speaking of danger—I hope Lumine doesn't run into trouble in Sumeru City. It seems to follow her."
"We all wish her the best, of course" Tighnari murmured, and took a quiet sip of his tea.
***
58th Day of Summer
Evening
I feel worthless.
For so long I'd found something like peace with myself. But since Lumine arrived, a gnawing inadequacy has taken root. My life, shaped by this disease and its treatments, by survival, feels small... What have I actually accomplished? Helping Tighnari care for the rainforest feels trivial against the shape of her adventures.
I know Eleazar will claim me eventually. But before that day comes, I want to achieve something meaningful. Something I can be proud of.
I don't know if that's still possible. But I haven't stopped wanting it.
In the weeks after Lumine's departure, Collei's condition worsened. Fatigue gripped her more tightly each day, and the scales on her skin grew thicker at the edges. Tighnari's concern sharpened. Then one morning, without explanation, he left for Pardis Dhyai and instructed her to remain behind.
Alone, her despair deepened. She had no purpose, no direction, nothing to do but sit with her own thoughts.
So when Lumine appeared at Gandharva Ville days later—Paimon fluttering anxiously beside her—Collei's shock was genuine.
"Lumine? What are you doing here?"
"Have you seen Tighnari?" Lumine's voice was tight. Urgent.
"He left days ago. He told me to stay behind."
"I need to find him." A pause. "It's important."
"What's going on?"
Lumine hesitated. Paimon looked equally uneasy. The rainforest sounds filled the silence between them.
"Collei… has your Eleazar gotten worse?"
Collei went still. "Yes. Do you know why?"
Lumine nodded slowly. "The Akademiya Sages have been harvesting dreams through the Akasha. It's putting enormous strain on people's bodies. There's a woman named Dunyarzad—she was born with Eleazar too. She almost died from something they're calling the Samsara."
"The Samsara?"
"It's what they call the cycle. They put everyone to sleep and collect the dreams."
Collei processed this slowly, the shape of it cold and wrong. "Why would the Akademiya do that?"
"We don't know yet. But the Fatui are involved." Lumine looked at her carefully. "Something terrible is happening."
Collei's blood ran cold.
"I don't know if I should tell you the rest," Lumine said gently. "It could make things worse for you."
"Please," Collei said. Just that one word. Barely audible. "I need to know. whatever it is... I promise I'm strong enough."
Lumine's shoulders fell. "Dottore is here. He's working with the Sages."
The world tilted slightly beneath her.
"He's… here?"
"Yes. I saw him myself. But Collei—"
"I want to come with you," Collei said.
The words came out before she could stop them. She had to go. If people with Eleazar were being targeted, she had no idea how much time she had left. She couldn't let it end like this—stuck at the Villa, alone and aimless, waiting for the illness to finish what it started.
"What?" Lumine stared at her. "Collei, Dottore is—"
"I know," Collei said. "I'm terrified of him." A breath. "But I need closure. I don't know how much time I have. I want to do something that means something. I want to help stop him."
Lumine looked at her for a long moment.
Then she nodded.
"Well… I need directions."
Collei smiled—a real one, small and terrified and certain.