Does The Sea Bleed Crimson?

by going_insane_yall_want_anything

Summary:

In the aftermath of the flood, Neuvillette is slowly learning to navigate the intricacies of personal relationships while dealing with the weight of his ancient past and his inner struggle to find his place in the world; but what happens when said world is on the verge of collapse? As several factions fight against Teyvat's established hierarchy, Neuvillette has to find the balance between his duties as the Chief Justice, his role as the original God of Life and his visceral need to protect the things he cares about. Old allies become enemies and old enemies return to seek control, all to determine the fate of a fragile species called humans.

Notes:

My first attempt at writing fanfiction.
I just wanted to put Neuvillette in the blender and shake him around until he is permanently changed by the physical and mental anguish. For character development, of course.

Also English isn't my first language, so any constructive criticism is appreciated.

Chapter 1: Monachopsis

Neuvillette is dreaming.

 

The sole reason he is aware of this, is the fact he is complete. Unlike the mild sense of contentment that washed over him when he reclaimed the authority of hydro, this emotion is much stronger. It is a feeling of utter bliss, a feeling of exhilaration. Something he hasn't experienced before and will never be able to truly experience—not with the painfully human form of his current incarnation.

 

Neuvillette is aware that he is dreaming. For this joyful feeling can't be anything but a dream.

 

He swims in the depths of the Fontemer Sea and the waters sing for him. Of course, as the sovereign of hydro, every body of water has always accepted him, even more so after the destruction of the hydro throne. But this is different. Neuvillette's consciousness bleeds into the Primordial Sea as everything becomes a single living organism with himself at its very heart. For the first time, his title as the God of Life doesn't seem as vast as the depths of the abyss, as boundless as the flow of time, as a crushing responsibility that can bring him to his knees; it is instead something natural, something right.

 

Neuvillette is a dragon. That, he has always known, from the moment he was born into this world. But here, in this dreamscape where he's not confined in a body too fragile, too small, too wrongly shaped, he understands what it truly means.

 

He uses his fins to propel himself forward with a speed that redirects the flow of the currents, as his surroundings bend to their sovereign's will. His rhinophores—now much longer and brighter, fading into translucent blue tips—illuminate his way through the darkness of the deep sea with a warm glow. Blue and white scales cover his large serpentine body, all the way from his head to his tail, and he can feel the water hugging each one of them.

 

Within the embrace of the sea, Neuvillette relishes the feeling of being in his true dragon form. Here, in the comfort of his element, Neuvillette is complete.

 

He wonders, not for the first time, why he has been cursed with a human form. Cursed to spend his life as an outsider; not human enough but not dragon enough, trapped halfway between two vastly different species, yet never belonging to either. He wonders if the usurpers were unsatisfied with only stealing his power and his authority and saw fit to take his body as well.

 

As he swims in the Primordial Sea, the amniotic fluid of this planet's life, Neuvillette wonders.

 

Watching a school of fish swim into a lair of hunter's rays as they unknowingly head towards their inevitable demise, he realizes with a pang of sorrow that this dream will soon be over and he will return to the cage that is his current form.

 

 

He awakens to rain pelting down in torrents, water hitting his windows with a sound that reverberates through his quarters in the Palais Mermonia. Neuvillette finds that at this moment, he doesn't care enough to stop it. Not when his body feels more stifling than ever before, not when his normally cold skin is burning—scorching in a way that makes him wish he could crawl out of it. The air is too dry, with each harsh breath grating his throat, suffocating him. Sweat rolls down his face, hair sticks uncomfortably on his too smooth, too human skin, and a sound akin to a sob leaves his mouth.

 

How unbecoming of me, Neuvillette thinks bitterly. He can control his powers now, but the way to control his emotions remains a mystery still.

 

Getting out of bed and walking over to his balcony door, Neuvillette unsteadily steps outside. The rain, like always, is soothing, cleansing. As he closes his eyes and tilts his head backwards, he can feel every drop of water hitting his skin forcefully, yet not painfully. It is a force that grounds him, one that stops him from tearing into his own skin—though even this action would be cumbersome for his blunt and round human nails.

 

With a deep inhale, he briefly considers going to his office to get an early start on the day's paperwork now that his sleep has been disturbed, but soon decides against it. Losing himself in documents and criminal cases doesn't get rid of the layers upon layers of alien material that happens to be his flesh. So instead, the dragon stands under the rain, bare feet on cold marble and his robe sitting loosely on his skin—a far cry from the thick layers of clothing he dons during the day, but even those are less constrictive that his own skin.

 

Neuvillette is unsure of how much time passes, but when the first rays of sunlight peek over the horizon, he raises a hand and lets the downpour ease into a light drizzle. He does not wish to inconvenience the people, after all. Even though the dragon of water enjoys being close to his element, he is aware of the disruption the rain causes. It is not only humans that are negatively affected by it, but melusines as well. Despite being creatures of the water, they say life in the city is more convenient when dry. That, and they are well aware of the reason for the sudden changes in the weather. Burdening them with his heavy emotions is the last thing he wants.

 

As dawn breaks, Neuvillette dries himself off with a flick of his wrist and heads back inside to prepare for the day. The familiarity of his morning routine, one he has been following for almost five centuries, allows him to get his thoughts in order and bury his vulnerabilities under a neutral indifference.

 

 

The day goes by without a hitch. He presides over trials, sits through a meeting that lasts an hour longer than necessary, reads over stacks upon stacks of documents with a practiced ease that can only come from years of experience. Neuvillette is distracted, he knows, but he fulfills his duties as he would on any other day. His own shortcomings should not interfere with his work.

 

He cannot help but feel guilty when he senses the worried glances of the melusines. Naturally, schooling his features into impassiveness would not fool their special eyesight. Neuvillette tries to give them a reassuring smile and he finds it isn't as difficult as it should've been. Interacting with his daughters always fills him with great joy.

 

The Chief Justice exits the Opera Epiclese after the conclusion of the final trial of the day—guilty, he had pronounced, and the sentence was final now that the Oratrice no longer functioned—and his steps are heavy, the grip on his cane tight. The sky is overcast with clouds, but there is no rain; he made sure to keep it under control throughout the day lest a repeat of the earlier downpour occurs.

 

He starts walking towards the aquabus station.

 

Or at least, tries to.

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette!" Aeife's voice stops him and he turns around.

 

"Hello, Aeife. Is something the matter?"

 

The look she levels him with is exasperated and she crosses her arms. "I should be the one asking you that! Are you feeling alright?"

 

"Ah. Yes, I am quite alright. Please do not worry about me, dear."

 

"It was raining heavily until morning," the melusine points out.

 

Neuvillette sighs. "My apologies. I will be alright. I am simply feeling a little... under the weather."

 

"Was that a joke, Monsieur?" amusement paints Aeife's words.

 

"Indeed. I shall be heading back to the Palais now. I apologize for worrying you and your sisters."

 

"You apologize too much, Monsieur Neuvillette. Would you like for us to also apologize whenever you are worried?"

 

He is always worried. They both know that.

 

"I see." Neuvillette tries to keep a grimace from appearing on his face. "No, of course not. In that case, I shall endeavor to cease this habit."

 

He gives Aeife a soft smile and a pat on the head before bidding her goodnight.

 

Another voice stops him on his way to the station. "She's right, you know."

 

"Ah, Miss Clorinde. I thought you would have already returned to the city."

 

Clorinde doesn't comment on that. After a moment of silence: "No one would fault you for taking a day off, Monsieur. You have been working too much."

 

"I am the Chief Justice. I cannot simply take a 'day off'."

 

Clorinde raises an eyebrow. "Everyone can take a day off. Especially you. The aftermath of the prophecy hasn't been easy."

 

"I have been... taking breaks. I do not need an entire day of rest."

 

"Maybe your body doesn't." She sighs. "Listen, as someone who has been working closely with you for years, I can tell that something has changed after the flood. That said, externally you seem perfectly healthy, but you are allowed to give your mind a rest, Monsieur. It would be good for you."

 

"I appreciate your thoughts on the matter, Miss Clorinde. Thank you."

 

"You know, a day off isn't necessarily a day to be spent resting. You can just do an activity you enjoy." Clorinde's lips lift up. "On the weekends, I play Tabletop Troupe with Navia and Furina." At the mention of the previous hydro archon's name, Neuvillette's eyes soften.

 

"You're welcome to join us if you'd like." Neuvillette opens his mouth to refuse, to mention that Furina has every right to not wish to see him, but Clorinde continues with mirth in her voice, "Or you could go for a swim. There's no reason to deny yourself a little indulgence now and then, even if it's only for a few hours."

 

"Ah... That is..."

 

"Neuvillette." The sound of his name bare of any titles makes him pause. "I'm not saying this as a subordinate. Just... take care of yourself."

 

Neuvillette's voice gets stuck in his throat and when he is finally able to force it out, it's barely louder than a whisper, "I will consider it. Thank you, Clorinde. Truly."

 

On his way back to the Palais Mermonia, the Chief Justice turns Clorinde's suggestion over in his head.

 

It is not such a terrible idea, Neuvillette muses, The waters have been restless today. There is a strange emotion coming from the sea, something akin to agitation. Could it be due to my dream?

 

How embarrassing, that the element he is supposed to have absolute control over betrays his emotions in such a way.

 

On the lift that leads to the Palais, he makes a decision. And as Sedene's eyes light up when he tells her he will not be doing any more paperwork this evening, he knows it's the right one. He lets her convince him to take tomorrow morning off as well.

 

The moon is already out when Neuvillette arrives at the shore and the soft glow of the nightsky—it is a fake sky, he knows, for he holds memories of times before—gives him a semblance of tranquility.

 

Yet, there is a strange sense in the back of his mind. It is not a physical one, but it doesn't seem to be a mental one either. How peculiar, feelings are.

 

Neuvillette steps into the water, the calling of his element now too strong to ignore, and he continues deeper, until he is fully submerged and the sounds of above fade away.

 

Being underwater is not as liberating a sensation as it was in his dream, not as thrilling—it never feels enough in this body—but right now, the dragon feels at home. Here, without the weight of responsibilities, without the intricacies of societal expectations, without the pressure of maintaining appearances, Neuvillette can simply be. And what an all-consuming sentiment it is, to exist in a world where you don't know your own place and be accepted by it nonetheless.

 

As he swims deeper still, he is joined by blubberbeasts and otters, and with a flick of his hand he creates small currents for them to play in. The sea creatures he encounters treat him not with apprehension or fearfulness, but with curiosity and a warm reverence.

 

The moon is high in the sky when Neuvillette senses a strange pull—a feeling of something heading for him. Turning his attention south, he recognizes the unmistakable presence of a being of his own kind. As a massive form enters his field of vision, he is overcome by a sense of kinship. Being near vishaps sparks a similar sensation, but this one is different, stronger. It awakens a draconic instinct from eons long gone.

 

The stranger's identity makes itself known when a slumbering memory resurfaces in the sovereign's mind.

 

"Scylla."

Chapter 2: Across Eons

The vishap prince of Remuria draws closer, his large form glowing with different shades of blues and purples—the colors of the primordial waters.

 

The first emotion that washes over Neuvillette after his initial surprise is a gleeful sort of awe. The second is, unexpectedly, embarrassment.

 

For how can he face his brethren whilst wearing this tiny, frail form?

 

He's jolted out of his spiraling thoughts when Scylla starts to speak, his voice echoing inside Neuvillette's head—dragonborn have no need for spoken language as a means of communication after all—"I have been looking forward to meeting you, my Sovereign. I am called Scylla."

 

It takes a long moment for Neuvillette to realize that he, too, can speak through a mind link. He has never done so, in this life. "It pleases me immensely to meet a fellow dragon. I do possess certain memories of you, though very few and incomplete, and I believe that you and my predecessor used to be quite close."

 

A peculiar sound ripples through the water. A joyous laugh that creates vibrations of wavelengths undetected by a human ear. "That's right! I have always served the sovereign of hydro. Following the death of your previous incarnation and the decline of our kin, I have spent two millenia imprisoned in the ruins of the fallen Remuria." As he moves even closer, Neuvillette settles a gloved hand on the vishap's head. Scylla continues, "I felt the return of your rightful authority a short while ago. I'm very pleased with this turn of events. Those usurpers should have never been in possession of it."

 

"I plan to bring judgment upon all of them in due time. The sins committed against our kind are unpardonable." Neuvillette narrows his eyes. "Though, I fear this confrontation might happen sooner than expected. The seas are unsettled."

 

"Should the usurpers make a move, I shall stand by your side, my Lord."

 

"Scylla... I do not..." Neuvillette cuts himself off, irritated with his inability to fully express his thoughts. He does not wish for another war. The humans have lived in these lands for millenia and they were never at fault for the sins of their gods. The usurpers are those that reside in Celestia and the pawns they call archons.

 

"I see." Neuvillette's eyes widen in surprise. "Haha! You are not yet adept at non spoken communication, are you?" Scylla smiles. The hydro sovereign isn't sure how exactly he knows that, considering the vishap's face remains unchanged. "This is a connection of minds, therefore there is no need to express yourself using the limited ways of humans."

 

"My apologies. It is not something I am used to." Another pang of shame flashes through Neuvillette, though this time more muted. It still settles as a heavy weight on his chest. "I admit that I've become quite fond of the humans in Fontaine. I wish to protect them, should the usurpers decide to take action. They are, after all, quite infamous for their views on showing mercy."

 

The laugh that leaves Scylla sounds bitter this time. "Yes. Our civilization was not the only one they sought to destroy." The ruins scattered across deep seas and dessert sands and snowy mountains are proof of that. "I would like to see for myself what it is about those humans that fascinates you so. I may not have very positive opinions on their kind, but I would never harm the ones you have accepted as yours."

 

He has no plans of harming any human, in fact. Although dragons have long life spans, Scylla is old, far too old to hold any interest in revenge. On a personal level, he would be content with simply roaming the seas in this body that holds little connection to the physical world; this is what Neuvillette's scattered memories show and he dreads the possibility of needing his assistance when the vishap has no wish for conflict.

 

"Say, my Sovereign, why is it that you appear in this form? I imagine it must not be very suitable for navigating the waters."

 

Neuvillette averts his eyes, focusing instead on two armored crabs burrowing into the sea floor. "It is no choice of mine. I do not know why I was born in this form and it has always haunted me so. The newly acquired memories of my predecessor make this feeble body seem even more... foreign."

 

"They have stolen too much from our kind. Do not feel ashamed for something you had no choice in." And then, less seriously, "It is quite an elegant form, and certainly convenient for interacting with humans. In any case, beings such as yourself are known to take on many different forms. I do believe, however, that the great Leviathan would prefer to traverse his waters with a body made by and for them." And oh, how Neuvillette yearned for that. "You used your powers to change the blood of those humans of yours, did you not? Perhaps changing your own form, albeit cursed before birth, would not be an impossible feat."

 

"I have attempted to do so in the past, but the months after the reinstatement of my authority have been rather hectic. I admit that I am... hesitant to try."

 

For a dragon who has lived in solitude with a body resembling those that took their lands as though an attempt at mockery, his young sovereign's soul is much too kind and gentle, the fell vishap prince thinks. And it is a thought so earnest that it slips through the margins of his mind and reaches Neuvillette's own, sending him reeling.

 

Surely, it cannot be true. Surely, I do not deserve such praise. Surely, it cannot be anything but the nostalgia of their previous acquaintance bringing forth these positive emotions.

 

But Scylla answers with the same warmth that was conveyed in his thoughts, "If you wish it, I would like to offer my assistance in this endeavor. Changing one's form is instinctual for a sovereign dragon, but I'm certain it would be quite challenging for someone who spent centuries without this ability." Then, with a chuckle, "In return, you could grant me a human form, one such as yours. I did mention that I wish to see your humans for myself and it would be rather difficult with this body."

 

Neuvillette smiles, a soft upturn of his lips. "Ah, yes. I would really like that."

 

And if they spend the remaining of the night submerged in the aquatic depths, companionable silence only broken by the occasional exchange of questions and inhuman noises of delight, it is simply an echo of the past.

 

And if, come morning, they both leave the murky waters walking on two legs, it is surely a trick of the light. The sun tends to be rather blinding, after all, when the sky is devoid of clouds.

 

 

 

---

 

 

All is quiet in the land of snow. The blizzard is harsh, unforgiving, vicious.

 

And what becomes of the ones who wish to tame it?

 

"The Abyss Order's activity has been on the rise. We fear they might get in the way of our plans."

 

"It is no matter. We have the moon fragments in our possession. We shall proceed with the preparations."

 

"Yes, Your Majesty."

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

Furina is sprawled on the bed of her new apartment, wracking her brain for ideas for the troupe's new play. Pulling on her hair, she exclaims, "Ugh! This is so annoying! Even being an archon was easier!" It wasn't, of course. But pretending that the last five hundred years weren't unbearable, that they weren't an unimaginably torturous performance, is the only way she can maintain a semblance of sanity.

 

She scribbles unconsciously on the paper until her pen runs out of ink. Mademoiselle Crabaletta passes her a new one.

 

Furina is startled by a sudden knock on the front door and she tries not to panic. They've been really difficult, those past few months. Most of the time she keeps acting without realizing, the persona of the hydro archon engraved deep in her bones. The rest of the time she spends in fear—fear of how the people will react, fear of judgment and, most commonly, fear of not knowing who she truly is. Where does the pretend-godess Furina stop and where does the real Furina begin?

 

She hesitantly opens the door.

 

"Furina! Hey there!" Navia stands on the doorstep, a wide grin on her face. "I baked some macarons!"

 

Furina's mood brightens as her shoulders relax and a surprised laugh leaves her mouth. "Ah! Navia, I wasn't expecting you. Come in, come in!" She is very grateful for Navia's visits. The president of the Spina di Rosula is one of the few people who don't treat Furina as a retired archon, but as an equal, a friend even. Not that Furina has any experience with this sort of thing. Playing the role of a god for five centuries doesn't leave much space for genuine friendships, in Furina's opinion. "How generous of you to bring sweets! You know I could never refuse some macarons."

 

Navia's energy is contagious and her macarons delectable, so much so that Furina lets herself get dragged to the city, earlier mood forgotten. 'A shopping spree', Navia called it.

 

The shops, much like every weekend morning, are buzzing with people and the only thing keeping Furina from fleeing is the grounding presence by her side.

 

Navia pays for both of their clothes, ignoring Furina's complaints, and it is already past noon by the time they leave Chioriya Boutique. Hushed whispers follow them this time and Furina wants to scream. Of course, how could she ever think she could have a semblance of a normal life? Her thoughts keep jumping between the part of her mind that believes a fraud like her would never deserve such freedom, and the other, more treacherous part, that keeps repeating Please, not again. Please, leave me alone. Haven't I already suffered enough? What more do you want? and now her breathing is speeding up as cold sweat rolls down her face. Why is everything blurry? Why are the noises overlapping? Why am I here?

 

Before she can start hyperventilating, however, she makes out a different name and realizes the stares and whispers aren't directed at her.

 

"Hey, Furina! That's Monsieur Neuvillette! We should go over and say hi." That same treacherous part of Furina now wishes that the relationship between Navia and Neuvillette had remained tense, because then they could both avoid him. Because then she wouldn't have to deal with the consequences of lying to him for five hundred years. She wouldn't have to see disappointment and hatred in the eyes of the only person she ever considered family. Realistically, Furina knew that Neuvillette didn't hate her; they talked—a short, awkward conversation—on the day she returned to the stage. But what if he was lying? Furina shakes her head. How silly. Neuvillette doesn't lie. He's not like me. He's not a liar. Not an actor.

 

She notices another figure next to the Chief Justice. It is a man, almost as tall as Neuvillette, but dressed nowhere near as formally. The style looks almost archaic; he wears a light blue tunic embroidered with golden decorations. What catches her attention though, is his inhuman features. A pair of purple horns adorns his head and patches of blue and purple scales cover areas of his skin. His fingers are webbed and his ears are much like Neuvillette's: pointed and elegant. His eyes are a vibrant blue, pupils two vertical slits. Could he also be a dragon?

 

The next thing she notices as she unconsciously follows Navia, is that both men look uncomfortable, trying and failing to escape the heat of the sun. Memories of Neuvillette locking himself in his office whenever the outside world was too hot and dry, looking lethargic and worse for wear; memories of herself sprawled on his sofa while teasing him for his effort to seem composed suddenly flood her mind. The words escape her before she can stop them: "You two look like you're about to shrivel up and die."

 

Neuvillette blinks with a familiar exasperation on his face, but he is visibly amused. The other man laughs loudly before exclaiming in a dramatic fashion, "Ah, if only we had someone around who could bless us with some rain."

 

The words are so unexpected and Neuvillette's look so indignant that Furina's mortification fades, discomfort replaced with something else, and when she laughs it is genuine. She can make out Navia muttering, "Hm? Oh! Well! That makes a lot of sense, actually."

 

"Scylla, please."

 

"Huh? Scylla? Like the dragon of Remuria?" Furina's voice is louder now, and her eyes comically wide.

 

Thankfully, the crowd of people has mostly dispersed by now, having lost interest after a short time devoid of dramatics. Even so, the group moves to a quieter street lest the reporters find them.

 

"If I didn't know any better, I would've thought you did this on purpose to get back at me." Scylla looks amused when Neuvillette can't help but avert his eyes.

 

"My apologies. Yes, that is indeed the Scylla you know of. Scylla, this is Miss Navia. She is the leader of the Spina di Rosula, an organization focused on helping the people of Fontaine. And Miss Furina is– Ah–" Neuvillette hesitates.

 

"A friend," Navia says.

 

"Indeed." But even though Neuvillette agrees, Furina keeps spiraling. Liar. No, shut up. He has to be lying. Shut up! He doesn't lie. So it has to be true. But is it really? Or did my performance make him think so?

 

Unexpectedly, Navia and Scylla get along quite well, leaving Furina and Neuvillette scrambling to make casual conversation; an effort to pick up the pieces of whatever it is that they had, an effort to break down the wall they unconsciously built between them.

 

"Lady Furi– Ah, I'm sorry. Miss Furina, have you been well lately?"

 

"Haha, why yes of course! I'm doing great!" Liar, liar, liar. "What about you, Monsieur Neuvillette? I imagine things have been busy, but I'm sure you have everything under control, like always."

 

The tension is palpable. Small talk is not getting them anywhere. Neuvillette takes a deep breath that makes Furina prepare for the worst. It doesn't come. "Miss Furina, I wanted to apologize. For not realizing you were suffering all this time, for not being there when you needed me, for putting you on trial, for– for everything. Furina, I am truly sorry. I understand if you do not wish to see me and if my presence only reminds you of the pain you want to leave behind. I–"

 

"Wait wait wait! I thought you didn't want to see me! I lied to you for five hundred years, Neuvillette. How could I be angry at you for not realizing when this was the entire point of it? I never wanted you to find out." Okay, maybe a selfish part of her did want that—the part that spent every night pleading and begging for the performance to finally end. "And I'm sorry for keeping you in the dark, for deceiving you."

 

"But I was the one that failed you, Furina. I should have been there. As your– I should have been there."

 

"Ugh!" Navia's voice interrupts them. "You're both impossible. Can't you stop apologizing and just talk?"

 

No. But Furina wishes they could.

 

"Well, this isn't exactly what I meant earlier," Scylla says, gazing upwards, and Neuvillette's ears flush. The sun is now completely hidden, replaced by dark clouds and a soft drizzle that is getting progressively stronger. Furina is aware of what this means for Neuvillette, yet it brings a surprised giggle out of her. The tension disperses soon enough.

 

"Miss Furina–"

 

"Just Furina is fine."

 

"Furina, then. I wanted to congratulate you on your vision. I cannot think of anyone more deserving of this power." Neuvillette smiles softly. He looks proud. But he can't be proud of me. Can he? Why would he?

 

"Thank you, but it– huh. It's from you, isn't it? How did I not think about that? There is no hydro archon anymore."

 

"It is indeed part of my own power, but it was not my choice to grant it. You received it due to your own ambition and determination."

 

"Mm." Furina is much lighter now. "Hey, there are even little fangs on it! I never noticed how different it is."

 

There is suspicious murmuring from Navia and Scylla. It almost sounds like they're plotting something, Furina thinks. How did Neuvillette even make a friend anyway?

 

"Oh! Speaking of Furina's vision," Navia starts, "she flooded her apartment the other day. Again." She ignores Furina's shriek. "It seems that her vision is pretty powerful and difficult to control."

 

"Hm." Scylla pretends to think. "I wonder if there is anyone willing and strong enough to help her master it..."

 

"How great it would be if there was someone like that around!"

 

Unbelievable. Is Neuvillette's new friend like Navia?

 

But Neuvillette seems considers the idea. "I would be honored to help you with your vision. That is, if you are amenable to it, of course."

 

"No no!" Furina shakes her head vehemently. "You're already busy enough. You don't have to waste your time with something so trivial." But deep down, she wishes for it. Please ask me again. Please don't. Please do.

 

"I can make some time. And it is not trivial to me. Of course, if you don't want to–"

 

"Yes! I mean... yes, I would like that. If it's not too much trouble."

 

Neuvillette smiles softly before willing the rain to cease and draining the water out of their forgotten shopping bags. Why does he look like he missed her? Why? Why doesn't he hate me? Why don't I hate him? Why am I so happy to see him more often?

 

Because, Furina realizes, her home of five centuries was never the Palais Mermonia. The thought takes a weight off her chest and she can't help but smile.

 

Notes:

Scylla 2 seconds after meeting Neuvillette: this anxious lizard is now my little brother.

 

Also it really bothers me how Furina was treated after the archon quest, both in her story quest and in later events. I tried to explore her internal struggle in a believable way. Hopefully it turned out well.

Chapter 3: The Sea Within Me

Notes:

Things are picking up:)

The Pankration Ring is quiet. Devoid of the usual racket caused by rowdy inmates cheering and placing bets, the only sounds present are those of blocked punches and heavy breaths.

 

"I'm surprised you agreed to spar with me. I thought handling swords and guns was your specialty, not hand-to-hand combat." Wriothesley jumps to avoid a sweeping kick at his legs.

 

"All types of fighting are my specialty. Now stop distracting me."

 

Wriothesley chuckles. "Oh come on, Clorinde, no need to be so serious. This is just a sparring session. A bonding activity, if you will." His left hook misses its mark.

 

"I won't."

 

Blow after blow, the dance goes on.

 

"By the way, how was your date with Navia?"

 

A momentary falter. The sound of a fist connecting to flesh is followed by the crunch of a nose breaking.

 

Clorinde answers with a knee kick on the warden's ribs. "It wasn't a date. We are simply... reconnecting. It takes some work, rebuilding a friendship. I did kill her father."

 

"A friendship. Right." Wriothesley's voice, though winded, carries his usual sarcasm. "And I don't take it up the ass."

 

"Ugh," Clorinde scoffs, but her tone is amused. "Men are so vulgar."

 

"I think that's just my horrible personality. Neuvillette would never say something like this."

 

"Then I should rephrase: Human men are so vulgar."

 

"Hah! Touché." Wriothesley wipes the blood on his lip with the back of his hand. Neither fighter is using their full strength, but the quick exchange of blows is challenging, intoxicating. By the end of the fight, they are both panting heavily, muscles sore, faces bleeding and knuckles split.

 

"I haven't had this much fun in a while. Every fight here is over too quickly for my liking."

 

Leaving the Pankration Ring, they take the elevator and start walking towards the infirmary, all while pretending that their slow trek there is a personal choice and not a result of their injuries. They try to ignore the strange looks from inmates and guards alike.

 

"Perhaps we can make it a habit. You know, since you refuse my offers for tea."

 

"Perhaps not. And I don't always refuse them, you simply drink too much tea."

 

Wriothesley gasps dramatically. "There is no such thing as 'too much tea'. You wound me, Clorinde."

 

"You'll live."

 

When they reach the infirmary, Sigewinne is glaring daggers at them. She puts her hands on her hips. "Would you care to tell me why you're both injured? Maybe I would have expected this sort of carelessness from His Grace, but..." Clorinde averts her eyes at the judgmental look.

 

"My dear head nurse, some sparring between friends is a fun way to kill time," Wriothesley says.

 

"You know what's another fun way to kill time, Your Grace? Drinking a delicious milkshake!" Two groans: one inward, the other not so much. "Speaking of, after I'm finished healing you, you will drink the one I have already prepared. I even added some extra ingredients and nutrients to speed up the healing process! And you'll be having another milkshake, twice a day, for the remaining of the week." Sigewinne claps her hands in delight. The little shit, Wriothesley thinks, already preparing for the next five days of torture.

 

"Am I included in this arrangement?" asks Clorinde.

 

The melusine nurse puts a hand on her chin, pretending to think about it for a few moments. "Hm. Only for today. You should drink one milkshake after I treat your injuries and you can take the other one with you to the surface." She sounds far too happy about the consumption of her little abominations.

 

Wriothesley turns to Clorinde, "Well, you were lucky enough to get the lipstick last time. Neuvillette took the fall for you."

 

"I'll have you know that Monsieur Neuvillette loves my milkshakes!" Sigewinne exclaims in indignation.

 

"Yeah yeah. It's definitely not that he'd rather die than say something that would hurt a melusine's feelings."

 

"Two weeks of milkshakes, Your Grace!" Sigewinne purposefully presses a little two hard on one of Wriothesley's cuts before continuing, "Oh! Miss Clorinde, how did you like the lipstick I gave you?"

 

"I like it. I use it quite often. Navia has tried it as well."

 

Wriothesley gives her a look. Clorinde stares back. "I will strangle you."

 

"I didn't even say anything." Wriothesley's grin only grows.

 

Human facial expressions are fascinating, Sigewinne decides. She can't wait to tell her sisters about this interaction.

 

 

---

 

 

"It is rumored that the Gnoses bring misfortune."

 

Wind blows harshly, a biting gale that tears through the cold night.

 

"Aren't we much the same?"

 

"I suppose so."

 

The crunching of snow announces the arrival of another. "Dottore."

 

"What? No warm welcome?"

 

"Quit playing around. What is the situation?"

 

"Were you doubting my abilities?" Dottore scoffs. "Phase three of the experiment is complete. The merging ritual will be underway soon."

 

 

---

 

 

Neuvillette is restless. The feeling that has been nagging him is particularly intense today. As he gets closer to the Opera Epiclese for the next trial, it becomes even more apparent, stirring the hydro under his skin.

 

Something is wrong.

 

The air is stiffling and the waters around Fontaine are unsettled, almost distressed. Neuvillette pauses in front of the Fountain of Lucine and closes his eyes. Connecting his consciousness to the fountain is fairly simple, but what he finds, not so much.

 

A strange sense of something foreign slowly seeps into the surrounding waters. Similar to how the increase in the primordial water's concentration felt as it was leaking into Fontaine's sea, and yet vastly different. This time it feels darker, corrupted.

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette?" The dragon opens his eyes at the sound of his name. Only to blink in surprise at the owner of the voice.

 

"Miss Clorinde? I thought you were going to be at the Fortress today."

 

"I just returned and I saw you standing here. You were... glowing."

 

"Ah. It is a common side effect of using my powers. I apologize if it made you uncomfortable."

 

"That's not it." Clorinde isn't known to beat around the bush. "Is there something going on?"

 

Before Neuvillette can answer, he senses a familiar presence and a weight crashes into his legs.

 

"Neuvillette!" A pull on his coat. "Water veins! Bad! Water– Dark–"

 

"Pashiv, please slow down. Tell me what you found. I have been sensing a disturbance but I was unsure of its origin, so I attempted to inspect the fountain for answers."

 

Pashiv is a young vishap who takes the form of a melusine and is often wrongly assumed to be one. She is not adept at human language, lacking the capacity for some of the spoken words, and even though Neuvillette has been teaching her more complex sentences, they usually tend to fall back into the familiarity of their own language—the one of dragons. Pashiv is a solitary creature, content with roaming Erinnyes and watching over the ley lines. Ley lines that, at the moment, are most likely being poisoned, if Pashiv's lack of hesitation in showing up in such a place is anything to go by.

 

While listening to her explanation, Neuvillette becomes increasingly aware of the gravity of the situation.

 

"Miss Clorinde."

 

"What do you need me to do?" As always, she wastes no time.

 

"There is disturbance in some of the ley lines. The elemental corruption has also attracted abyssal monsters. The first area, under the Weeping Willow, seems to be the most affected. I will handle this one myself. The second area is near the Foggy Forrest Path. I'd like for you to keep the monsters at bay until I arrive to remove the corrupting substance." Neuvillette scours the vicinity and calls over a Marrechause Phantom Officer. "I will have someone inform Captain Chevreuse and the Maison Gardiennage to assist you."

 

"Understood." Clorinde nods.

 

By the time Neuvillette sends for Chevreuse and finds another judge to precide over today's case, Clorinde is already on her way.

 

It seems that Pashiv didn't wish to stay near humans any longer, instead opting to hide in the nearby trees to wait for him. When he finds her, she throws her arms around him and rubs her face against his leg, letting out a sound akin to a purr. It brings an affectionate chuckle out of Neuvillette and he settles a hand on her head, softly flicking an ear. "Pashiv, have you heard anything of the other vishaps? Are they unharmed?"

 

"I can go see."

 

"It would be greatly appreciated. And, if you can, please reassure them that I will be handling the situation. They have undoubtedly felt the corruption by now, especially considering the proximity of the area to some of the ley lines."

 

"Mhm."

 

"If there is any trouble, instruct them to get to safety. The same goes for you, Pashiv. I want you to be very careful."

 

The vishap makes a rumbling noise in lieu of an answer. Letting go of Neuvillette, she turns and disappears in the trees, no doubt rushing to fulfill her duty.

 

The hydro sovereign turns his gaze to the Weeping Willow. With the amount of power he now holds, it would take him no more than three seconds to get to the lake, but a gut feeling urges him to scour the road more thoroughly. True to his suspicions, he encounters five abyss mages and a pack of rifthounds. After subduing them, Neuvillette extends his senses to check for more potential threats and after finding none, he speeds up and dives into the lake.

 

Instantly, he is hit with an abyssal energy. The foul stench of the Void Realm. It makes his stomach churn and the tides inside of him boil with displeasure. Such energy can be highly poisonous, almost devastating for a creature of the Light Realm, for they are worlds diametrically opposed. But Neuvillette is the sovereign of hydro, a dragon who can harness the power of all waters. Naturally, dispelling this darkness that is seeping into his domain is an easy feat.

 

Neuvillette moves along the underwater ley lines, getting rid of the corruption and creating a translucent seal around the veins. He deals with the monsters and then makes sure to remove remnants of the Abyss from the affected sea creatures. What worries him, however, is that he was unable to find the source of this harmful energy. And there seems to be no gate where the monsters could have entered from.

 

He decides to investigate this matter later and heads to the other affected area. In a blur of blue, Neuvillette reaches the Foggy Forrest Path and appears right next to an unsuspecting Garde, drawing a shriek from her.

 

"My apologies." Neuvillette quickly sweeps the place, assessing the situation. Members of the Maison Gardiennage along with the Spina di Rosula—seemingly made aware of the issue as well—are fighting what looks to be the last of the abyssal creatures.

 

"It's... um... it's alright, Monsieur Neuvillette," the startled Garde manages. "Champion Duelist Clorinde had already taken care of most of the monsters by the time we got here. Everyone is unharmed."

 

"That is good." At least Neuvillette can focus on fixing the ley lines. The process is even easier this time around and the corruption is rid within a few minutes. He shakes off the offending substance from his gloves.

 

The abyssal creatures have also been swiftly dealt with. From the corner of his eye, Neuvillette sees Navia conversing with Clorinde. He turns to Chevreuse, meaning to ask for her report on the situation.

 

Letting his guard down seems to be a major mistake, because within a fraction of a second he feels a sickening energy from the place Clorinde is standing.

 

A large, dark rift opens up behind her and before anyone has time to react, three massive claws plunge deeply into her, impaling her all the way from the back to the abdomen.

 

"Clorinde! No!" The scream that leaves Navia is wreched, devastated.

 

The claws retreat from her flesh and Clorinde's body tilts forward. Navia rushes to catch her before she hits the ground.

 

Notes:

I'm sorry (no I'm not)

I made Pashiv call Neuvillette by his name, because 'the visitor' is apparently just a mispronunciation of his name that's just not obvious in the English version of the game. And since that portion of the chapter is written from Neuvillette's pov, I thought he'd understand what she's saying like he did with Cacucu.

Chapter 4: All Things Flow

The creature that emerges from the rift resembles a rifthound, but is much bigger in size. Its skin is gold and brown, sizzling with traces of purple energy. Three smaller wolf skulls float around its body in circles.

 

Neuvillette knows of this beast. The Golden Wolflord—one of Gold's accidental creations.

 

The hydro dragon is the first to move. He aims a beam of water at the creature's head and quickly moves in front of it, shielding Navia and Clorinde from the wolf's vicious attacks.

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette! Please! Please, help Clorinde! She's dying, please!" His stomach drops at the sound of Navia's pleads.

 

Neuvillette disperses the hydro beam he was preparing to fire off and instead wills the particles of water in the air to shape into chains, imprisoning the abyssal beast as it drops to the ground with a heavy thud. He then creates a wall around it, a watery cage to contain any attack it might attempt to release. A temporary solution, he knows, but there are more important things currently requiring his attention.

 

Neuvillette turns and kneels beside Navia. He watches as she tries unsuccessfully to keep more blood from escaping Clorinde's body, hands pressing on the wounds with all of her strength, yet the treacherous liquid keeps flowing.

 

There is a gurgling cough and more blood coats Clorinde's lips. The three holes in her abdomen create a rapidly growing pool of blood that paints the grass red. Muscle and fat and organ tissue are no more hidden under layers of skin the way they are supposed to be.

 

"Navia... it's okay." Clorinde summons what's left of her strength. "I'm so–" She is interrupted by another cough, this one more forceful, a hacking, painful sound.

 

It's futile. They are all aware of it. Neuvillette can only focus on Clorinde's blood, on her deathly pale face and unfocused eyes, on Navia's sobs and desperate pleads for someone—for him to do something. He can sense the blood; he can feel it wetting his clothes, can smell the metallic scent, can sense the emotions of–

 

He can sense it–

 

He can–

 

The blood is–

 

Ah yes, that's right.

 

Of course. Blood is largely made of water. And all waters are his to command. He did, after all, turn all Fontainians into humans by controlling the liquid flowing through their vessels, by granting them true blood. Even the crimson river that is steadily growing beneath him, with life leaking out alongside it, came from his own powers.

 

"Navia. Please step aside."

 

"But–" Navia is startled at Neuvillette's tone, but doesn't remove her hands from Clorinde.

 

"I will heal her. Please, step aside."

 

Navia's eyes widen and a choked sound escapes her, a hopeful little thing that causes more tears to flow. Or is it the rain– When did it start raining?

 

Navia hesitantly takes her hands off the wounds, naturally expecting the blood to ooze out even faster, but instead it just... pauses.

 

Neuvillette raises a single hand and lets it rest atop Clorinde's abdomen, his eyes and horns glowing a bright hue. He allows every other sense to fade out and he feels it. Clorinde's liver and stomach have been punctured straight through, two of her arteries are fully torn, and bright red blood is leaking like a faucet. Taking control of the liquid essence, he wills blood vessels clossed, commands internal organs to resume their functions, mends every piece of damaged tissue and creates it anew. All cells are mostly water. Skin, muscles, bones, ligaments—they listen to him.

 

Even with the damage fixed, Clorinde's heart struggles to beat—the amount of blood flowing in her body is not enough to keep her alive. A minor issue. Neuvillette is the God of Life. Using the rainwater, he creates new blood, letting it slowly join the converging rivers of vessels, returning the heart to a healthy rhythm.

 

For a few moments, no one dares to breathe. The rain has stopped mid-air. The only audible noises are the roars of the still struggling beast.

 

"She will be alright now. She may be exhausted for a few days due to the strain on her body, but the damage is healed."

 

Without another word, Neuvillette rises to his feet and calls off the cage containing the Wolflord. The creature makes to get up, but freezes at the look in Neuvillette's eyes. It is a glare cold, yet burning with anger. The energy around him is sharp, stiffling, suffocating to whoever he directs it at. Neuvillette isn't actively using any of his power, but the Golden Wolflord remains unmoving, body frozen in place.

 

The still floating raindrops form a sharp beam of hydro with a joining of his palms and shoot towards the beast, instantly severing its lower body from the rest. The pained roar doesn't come close to the sound of flesh and bones hitting the ground. More blood sprays the grass.

 

With a terrified whine—a primal instinct among all living beings, that of fear—the beast shakily retreats to its rift with the desperation of a creature staring death in the face.

 

As soon as the rift closes, Neuvillette lets out a heavy sigh. And with that, the rain resumes falling.

 

Without turning around, he removes the residual dark energy from anyone affected. He can sense the shock, the fear radiating from the officers present, rightfully so. He does not wish to see it on their faces.

 

The cleanup will be easy enough. He is not needed here. So he leaves.

 

Navia calls after him, but he doesn't stop. The melusines of the Marrechause Phantom glance at him worryingly, but he doesn't stop. The downpour grows heavier, but Neuvillette doesn't stop.

 

 

---

 

 

Neuvillette doesn't sleep at all that night. Instead, he throws himself into his work, the familiar sounds of the typewriter and the rustling of papers keeping his thoughts at bay.

 

Even as the sun rises and the steady rhythm of the city life resumes, he remains in his office. Yesterday's events must already be getting around; each newspaper creating their own version of the previous day, people whispering and gossiping.

 

It is midday by now and he's standing in front of a wide shelf, looking for a file of an old case, when he registers a knock on the doors.

 

"Enter."

 

The double doors of his office open slowly and it is Navia that comes in. Her eyes water upon seeing him and he panics. Did my power not work properly after all? Did I fail? Is Clorinde–

 

"Thank you." Navia manages to choke out. "Monsieur Neuvillette, thank you so much. Thank you for saving Clorinde's life." She walks closer to him, steps unsure. "If it wasn't for you, she would be... Clorinde would–" Her knees buckle and Neuvillette catches her, gently guiding her to the floor. The movement is painfully reminiscent of yesterday's events.

 

"Miss Navia, please, there is no need to thank me. I do not expect any sort of gratitude for simply doing my duty. I am very glad that Miss Clorinde is alright." Neuvillette's attempts at reassurance seem unsuccessful because Navia's trembling only intensifies. "Navia, will you look at me?" The softness in his tone makes Navia raise her head and she must have found what she was searching for in his expression, because the next second she is throwing her arms around him in a crushing hug.

 

Neuvillette stiffens momentarily. He is quite used to getting hugs from melusines, but no human has ever dared to initiate physical contact. Furina would touch him on occasion, but it consisted mostly of playful jabs and soft pulls on his hair; all attemps to annoy him. This type of contact is new. It is different from hugging a melusine, but he finds that the protectiveness inside him is much the same.

 

Slowly and awkwardly, he raises his arms to return the hug and Navia presses her face into his coat. Her soft murmurs of repeated 'thank you's are eventually replaced with deep, tired breaths. She seems exhausted. Of course. Human bodies require a lot of sleep.

 

As her eyelids become heavy, Neuvillette ushers her to get some rest. "Sigewinne will be at Clorinde's house soon to examine her and make sure she has healed well. I suggest you use that time to get some much needed sleep," is what he says. A little reluctantly, Navia leaves his office, but not before giving his hand a firm squeeze.

 

No sooner has Navia entered the lift leading to the lower levels of the city than Neuvillette hears another knock, this one slightly sharper. Sedene enters his office with the usual spring in her steps, but there is worry in her expression.

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette, Menthe and Liath seem to be getting sick." The dragon's eyes widen. "They didn't want you to worry, but they think their bodies were affected by the corruption."

 

"Affected by the corruption? But I looked them over thoroughly yesterday and there didn't seem to be any foreign energy in their–"

 

Ah. Hm.

 

The power that corrupted the ley lines came from the Golden Wolflord and other abyssal monsters. Gold's creations. Elynas, the dragon that birthed the melusines, was also one of her creations. Even though the melusines have no such dark energies inside of them, it is a possibility that their cores bear some similarities, enough to keep this power undetected.

 

"Where are they?"

 

"Right outside the Palais Mermonia, Monsieur. But they're doing fine, don't worry! Though they might need a few days off."

 

"Of course. Thank you, dear."

 

As per Sedene's words, the two melusine officers are sitting on one of the benches near the entrance of Palais Mermonia. Approaching them, Neuvillette tries to assess the severity of their illness.

 

"Ah! Monsieur Neuvillette!" Menthe waves at him, movement a little sluggish. Her voice sounds hoarse.

 

"How are you two feeling?" Neuvillette removes his gloves and puts a hand on each of their foreheads as he waits for an answer. Hm, no fever. Good.

 

"We are okay!" Liath sounds slightly better, but her eyes are bloodshot. "Just tired, and my stomach hurts a little bit. Menthe has been coughing a lot."

 

"I see. May I use my power to examine you?" At the two nods, he closes his eyes and focuses on their energies. Much like yesterday, there seem to be no foreign powers flowing through them. But their own energy feels somehow thicker, heavier.

 

Neuvillette sighs in relief when he confirms that they are in no danger. "The substance that you came in contact with is similar in essence to the one that birthed you. As such, your bodies don't register it as poison, but as a kind of energy that they must adapt to. But it is more... dense, so it appears that it will take a few days for your bodies to accept it and for the symptoms to dissappear. Unfortunately, I cannot remove it. My apologies."

 

"Don't apologize! We'll be fine in no time!" Liath looks thoughtful for a moment. "Ah! It does feel a bit like... home. The energy is similar to Merusea Village, but more evil, I think. And heavy."

 

"Yes! I feel as though I ate a huge meal... so huge that even walking feels difficult."

 

"Both of you should rest for a few days. I will handle the paperwork for your leave. Menthe, your residence is a little far from here and it would be unwise to walk this far in your condition, so I recommend that you stay with Liath."

 

"But Monsieur, my house isn't big enough–"

 

"Of course, you won't be staying at your house." Neuvillette pulls out a set of keys from his coat and passes it to the two melusines. "I usually sleep at my quarters in the Palais Mermonia, but I own a house in the city as well—the one that your sisters who live in Merusea Village stay in whenever they visit the Court of Fontaine. You may stay there until you are recovered. It is close to the Palais and will allow me to look after the both of you."

 

"Oh! I know where it is." Menthe appears hesitant. "But... is it really okay?"

 

Neuvillette only smiles. "Sigewinne will be on the surface until tomorrow to regularly check on Miss Clorinde. She will surely want to examine you as well, so it will be much more convenient if all three of you stayed at my residence."

 

"Hm. Alright then!" Both melusines beam at him. "Thank you, Monsieur Neuvillette!"

 

"It is no trouble. Are you well enough to walk there by yourselves?"

 

"Yes, yes!" Liath reassures him as they get up.

 

"Alright then. Anything you need from the house, you may use. I will be there in the evening to check on you."

 

Staying up all night to work turned out to be beneficial, after all. Neuvillette completes his paperwork right before the sun goes down and heads to his residence.

 

He expects to find the two melusines asleep in the guest rooms; he commissioned someone to design furniture specifically for melusines, suited to their small size. Menthe has complained about the daily difficulties of being significantly shorter than humans. Stools are enough to reach things in high places, but they are of no help for everything else.

 

A momentary panic settles in Neuvillette's stomach when he sees the small beds still perfectly made, but it subsides as soon as he enters his own room. They are both sound asleep on his bed, cuddled together under the covers.

 

As if sensing his presence, Liath stirs and opens one eye. "Oh! Good evening, Monsieur." Her voice is a soft whisper. "Sorry for sleeping on your bed, we'll leave now that you're here."

 

"No need. You may sleep here if it is what you prefer."

 

"But where will you sleep then?"

 

"Do not worry about me. Just rest." Neuvillette once again checks their temperature and he grimaces when he finds Menthe's forehead warmer than before. Coating his hand with hydro, he cools her down and is relieved when she sighs in content. He then addresses Liath, "Would you be amenable to dinner? I will make soup."

 

"Um... my stomach still feels bad, but I'll try to eat a bit."

 

Neuvillette smiles and enters the kitchen to prepare the food. He's glad to find that the fridge and shelves are fully restocked. One of the melusines must've come by recently.

 

The hydro dragon tries to focus solely on his task, tries to forget the whispers and wide eyed looks that followed him home. He knows he will need to explain things eventually, but for now he simply turns on the stove and waits for the water to boil.

 

 

---

 

 

"Are you sure about this, Your Majesty? Although the Abyss Order is on the move, we have enough time to search for a suitable vessel. The Doctor will–"

 

"No. This vessel will suffice. We need a body that can sustain enough power to defy fate. Sacrifices must be made."

 

"Understood."

 

Notes:

Neuvillette on his bloodbender era (but hear me out. The fact that the sovereigns are supposed to be the manifestation of their element in its most powerful form is terrifying and it opens up so so many possibilities)

Also you can pry Neuvillette's interactions with the melusines from my cold dead hands.

 

Half of this fic's lore is based on my own theories and the other half is just bullshit I made up to get the plot where I wanted it to be. But if anyone can guess where the Tsaritsa's plan is going I'll be very surprised because I think I might be the only person on earth with this theory.

Chapter 5: Of Meals And Men

Notes:

The calm before the storm lol

 

"Why did you tell Navia and Clorinde that we have a place to stay tonight?" Wriothesley asks Sigewinne. "Of course I wouldn't have accepted their offer to stay over, but I'm sure they wouldn't have been offended if we said we're going back to the Fortress."

 

"But we're not."

 

"Huh?" Wriothesley narrows his eyes. "Sigewinne, I've told you that I don't like staying at hotels. If you want–"

 

"I know, Your Grace." The melusine nurse looks suspiciously happy. "We're staying at Monsieur Neuvillette's house!"

 

"What." Surely he heard wrong. "Sigewinne. We can't just show up unannounced and ask the Chief Justice to let us sleep at his house. Even I know that it's rude."

 

"But we won't show up unannounced. He already let me know in his letter that I can spend the night. Menthe and Liath are also staying there, because they're sick. I'm sure Monsieur Neuvillette wouldn't mind one more person!"

 

"Might I remind you that I'm not a melusine? There's no reason for him to let me stay at his house." Wriothesley feels the need to flee. Even if Neuvillette doesn't mind, the warden dislikes being indebted to anyone. He has been this way since his childhood, but the feeling has only intensified as he grew older and built taller walls around himself.

 

"Oh! We're here!" Sigewinne knocks at the door in front of her. If anyone asks Wriothesley later, he will deny that the embarrassing squeak came from his own mouth.

 

The door opens and there stands Neuvillette, the lack of his formal coat making him look smaller, softer somehow. "Ah, Sigewinne! I am glad to see you well." He notices the second figure as he moves to the side to let her in. "Wriothesley?"

 

"Uh... I was just here to check on Clorinde and drop Sigewinne off. Good night, Monsieur Neuvillette."

 

"No, please come in. I would like to hear how Clorinde is faring. Sigewinne can examine her sisters while we talk. Let's move to the kitchen, I have prepared dinner."

 

Wriothesley hesitates. He really isn't used to this. Last time he stayed at a house on the surface, he overheard his foster parents' plans to get rid of the children that didn't sell. Last time he pretended things were normal, he woke up to his younger brother's screams as the boy was getting dragged from his room. Last time he expected kindness, he plunged a knife into his foster mother's carotid artery all the while his foster father was already bleeding out on the kitchen floor. Last–

 

No. He stops this trail of thought.

 

The only beings that have ever been kind to him without expecting anything in return are the melusines. Humans, with very few exceptions, are not to be trusted. But... Neuvillette is not human. The man's kindness is genuine, he knows that. If there is a single person he can trust to never lie, it is the Iudex.

 

Fine, maybe only for a little bit.

 

Wriothesley thanks Neuvillette and follows him to the kitchen. The smell that hits him is pleasant and, strangely enough, familiar. He chooses not to dwell on it and simply pulls out a chair.

 

Conversation with Neuvillette, as always, flows easily, with no double meanings he needs to navigate through. He appreciates it. He tells Neuvillette that Clorinde is perfectly fine—already awake and rude as usual.

 

"Miss Clorinde is not rude."

 

"Not to you, maybe." Wriothesley grins. "Also, I won't ask about the thing you did yesterday—not yet at least—but... damn."

 

"Wriothesley, language." His grin widens even more.

 

When the soup is done, Neuvillette fills up three bowls to take to his room. Before Wriothesley can ask how he can help, a fourth bowl is set in front of him. "Oh. Uh. Thanks." He really isn't used to this.

 

The first spoonful of soup makes Wriothesley freeze. He remembers now, why the smell was so familiar.

 

"Neuvillette?"

 

"Hm?"

 

"This– Ah." Wriothesley clears his throat and tries again. "Is this your own recipe?"

 

"It is. Why do you ask?"

 

He can feel his vision blurring. "Have you... taught it to any of the melusines? Do they also make this soup?"

 

Neuvillette's look is quizzical. "Melusines have different tastes. They seem to like this one, but they usually prefer to make their own variations."

 

A beat of silence. "Wriothesley? Are you unwell?"

 

"No, it's– I'm fine." Has breathing always been so difficult? Were my ears ringing before? "I think... no, I'm sure that I've tasted this soup before." He eats a little more, to confirm that it's not merely a figment of his imagination. "I was homeless for a while, when I was a kid. Before they took me in. It was cold outside and I was starving. A melusine saw me and offered me some soup." They both ignore how his voice cracks. "It was... really good. Warm. The best thing I had ever tasted." It isn't winter this time around but the soup warms him up all the same.

 

"Ah. So that was you," Neuvillette acknowledges. "It was not the same soup. I had used water from Sumeru on that day. This one here is from Springvale."

 

Wriothesley wants to laugh, but he is too stunned to.

 

For a few moments, no one speaks. Then, "For their own protection, melusines are not allowed to gift things to humans. There have been... incidents, before. But one day, Muirne saw a young boy hiding in an alleyway and asked me for help. I had prepared soup for the melusines who were patrolling in the cold, so I let her take some to that child. It was concerning that someone so young did not have a home to stay in, but when I sent someone to investigate the situation, the child was gone."

 

Wriothesley runs a hand over his face and laughs bitterly. "It's kind of pathetic, really. I was so hopeless that I was considering climbing on the roof of a random house and just... letting go. I hated the snow, I hated how cold it was. And now I have a cryo vision. It's funny, isn't it?"

 

"It is not." Neuvillette's tone is stern and Wriothesley finds himself unable to look away from his face. "Wriothesley. Listen to me. The person that you used to be, that child, did not suffer through all these hardships, did not fight so hard for a better life, just for you to grow up and think him pathetic. You are here now, decades later, because of his—your—perseverance."

 

Whatever Wriothesley wants to say gets stuck in his throat. He swallows and blinks his eyes a few times so he doesn't do anything embarrassing. He should probably thank Neuvillette. But his mouth seems to have forgotten how to form words.

 

Fortunately for him, Sigewinne picks this moment to return to the kitchen. "Monsieur Neuvillette, the soup was delicious! Liath says sorry that she couldn't eat all of it, but I gave her something to soothe her stomach. Menthe went back to sleep after eating, but she said she'll have a second serving later."

 

Neuvillette chuckles. "I am pleased that you all enjoyed it. You may have as much as you wish."

 

"Hm." Sigewinne seems to stare intensely at Neuvillette for a few seconds. "Okay! That's good. I wanted to make sure that the battle yesterday did not affect your health. I'll still make you a milkshake though, just in case!" Then, side eyeing Wriothesley, "And don't think I've forgotten about yours. Still thirteen days of milkshakes to go, Your Grace."

 

Neuvillette frowns. "Thirteen days? My dear, don't you think this might be a little harsh?"

 

"Harsh? But Monsieur, he's lucky he gets to drink them everyday! My milkshakes are delicious!" she pouts.

 

"Ah! Yes, that's right. They are. Of course."

 

The absurdity of the situation startles a laugh out of Wriothesley; it sounds wet and slightly hysterical. But it's a real laugh. A genuine one, not tinted with sarcasm or bitterness.

 

He feels young, at this moment, younger than he has in a very long time. But there is no fear, no distrust. Is this really okay?

 

A few minutes pass before sounds of small feet approaching the kitchen make him look up. Menthe pauses in the doorway, yawning and rubbing her eyes. "Hm? Oh! Hello, Duke Wriothesley."

 

"Hey there." He hopes his voice doesn't sound as strained as he thinks.

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette, may I braid your hair?"

 

"You may." He pats her head and leads her to the living room. "Are you feeling better now?"

 

"Mhm. I slept a lot."

 

Menthe sits on one of the two couches and Neuvillette settles on the floor right in front of her, leaning back and undoing the bow from his hair.

 

It is a tender moment, familial. Wriothesley feels like he's intruding. He shouldn't be here. He should go.

 

"Will you stop thinking so loudly, Your Grace?" Before he can formulate a reply, Sigewinne takes one of his hands and drags him along to the living room. They sit on the opposite couch; it is so comfortable that Wriothesley feels himself sinking into the pillows.

 

He sits up forcefully when the doorbell rings, wondering how he let his guard down enough to have his back to the front door.

 

"I'll get it!" Before Sigewinne has even fully opened the door, Furina marches in.

 

"Neuvillette? What happened? Are you alright? How about Clorinde? And Navia? The city has been in uproar for the entire day! What did you do? And why were we under attack? Is it resolved? Were–"

 

"Furina, one question at a time, please."

 

"Wow."

 

Furina yelps. "Who... You're... Duke Wriothesley? What are you doing here?" Her eyes widen for a moment. "Actually... I don't know what I'm doing here either. I was so worried that I forgot we–"

 

Neuvillette doesn't let her finish. "You will always be welcome here, Furina."

 

"Oh."

 

"Ugh... so loud..." Liath pads unsteadily into the room.

 

The disappointed look that Neuvillette sends Furina is a stark contrast to his earlier words. But he doesn't ask her to leave. She stares as Liath sits next to Neuvillette on the floor, draping her head on his lap and letting out a whine.

 

"Stomach hurts..."

 

"I'm sorry, dear. I will see what I can do." As Neuvillette gathers hydro in his right hand, he meets Furina's gaze. "You may sit, Furina. I need to provide an explanation, in any case."

 

It is only now that Furina registers everyone else in the room, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Wriothesley presses a fist to his mouth to hide a laugh.

 

Neuvillette does his best to describe yesterday's events, but he seems hesitant, as if afraid that saying the wrong thing will shatter everyone's perception of him.

 

But Wriothesley understands the reason for Neuvillette's hesitance. He is familiar with the feeling, after all. Deciding to be blunt, he looks at the other, "No one here is afraid of you, Monsieur Neuvillette. I don't believe anyone in Fontaine is exactly afraid, for that matter. Uneasy and agitated, maybe. Awed and curious, definitely. Your powers are terrifying, sure, but if someone has to hold them, we're glad that it's you." And then, with his usual snarky tone, "I know I would be shitting my pants if I was on the enemy's side."

 

Neuvillette's next breath is shaky. "Thank you, Wriothesley."

 

"To be honest, it looks like people are more concerned about the attack, if anything. Was this a one-time thing or should we be preparing for something?"

 

"Fontaine is safe, for now. Something is indeed brewing, but there is no need to worry. I will increase surveillance in specific areas, but not much else can be done. I will handle it, when it happens."

 

Not if. When.

 

But Neuvillette can enjoy this brief moment of calm, he thinks. Right now, with the feeling of Menthe's hands braiding his hair and Liath's head on his lap, with the hushed conversation of familiar voices, Neuvillette's draconic instincts surge. The need to protect his own makes his skin burn.

 

Yes, he will handle it, when it happens.

 

Notes:

"There is no need to worry." There was, in fact, a need to worry.

Also Neuvillette and Wriothesley's dynamic here is basically like:
Wriothesley - oh boy, do I have a crush on this guy or do I just wish he could have been my dad?
Neuvillette - omg I have friends:D

Chapter 6: What Defines Fate?

Notes:

I don't really like the pacing of this chapter but :/

The beginning is a personal theory of mine and it gave me a lot of ideas for this story.

 

"The Gnoses are created from the remains of the Third Decender. They serve three primary functions: Allowing the Archons to resonate with Celestia, enhancing their power, and upholding this world's order. There is, however, a less known fourth function. To prevent the being that was the Third Decender from reincarnating in a new form."

 

"Is there proof of this?"

 

"All dragon sovereigns are reborn after their demise unless something is actively preventing it. Egeria was made to act as the heart of the primordial sea to prevent the rebirth of the hydro sovereign. In our case, it is not a being that acts as a replacement, but those seven objects."

 

"Are you saying that the Third Decender was one of the dragon sovereigns? Such a ridiculous notion. A dragon sovereign possesses mastery over their own element, yet the Gnoses correspond to each of the seven."

 

"That is where you're wrong. The Gnoses are simply objects that harness this world's original power. The specific abilities of the body they were made from are irrelevant. What matters is said body's will and amount of power."

 

"Hm. How fascinating."

 

 

---

 

"How fascinating." Neuvillette says. "You are able to use your vision to summon four different sentient creatures. Truly an incredible power."

 

"Of course, as expected of the– Ah. I mean... It's not that impressive, really." Furina laughs awkwardly. She almost slipped up. Again.

 

Two months after the incident with the abyssal rift, Neuvillette and Furina have established a routine. On the last day of every week, they spend most of the afternoon training at a remote shore on the northeast of the city.

 

Neuvillette was already aware of Furina's ability to form creatures of hydro, but he hadn't quite realized the extent of this power.

 

"Do not underestimate yourself, Furina. You've only had your vision for a short time and yet your affinity with it surpasses most hydro vision bearers." Neuvillette's tone is proud. "Those creatures of yours have distinct characteristics and personalities. It is no easy feat."

 

Right then, Gentilhomme Usher floats playfully next to his head and Mademoiselle Crabaletta grabs the feathered accessory from his hair, further adding to his point.

 

"Um... thank you." Furina's voice is small and hesitant, as if unsure how to reply to compliments without falling back into the act. "Say, Neuvillette. Would it be possible for a human to learn how to walk on water?"

 

Neuvillette raises a hand to his chin in thought. "I am not sure. It would require a deep connection with the water and certain precision to control only parts of its surface." He pauses for a short moment as his gaze finds the sea. "If you wish it, I can show you."

 

Furina's excitement is visible on her face. "Oh! You really mean it? You'll teach me?"

 

"Of course. Come."

 

Neuvillette steps onto the water first, manipulating it enough to allow Furina to get used to the sensation. She walks tentatively at first, afraid that she will suddenly find herself sinking, but no such thing happens. In less than an hour, she is able to control the water on her own, her steps now quick and confident; she's running as she would on solid earth, the only difference being the small ripples under her feet.

 

"You did well today, Furina. Your control over hydro is improving."

 

Furina smiles, a teasing tilt of her lips. "I did have the best teacher."

 

They don't leave just yet. Neuvillette tends to use the opportunity their training provides to examine the sea and search for potential dangers. Whatever he finds, he personally takes care of. It puts his mind at ease.

 

He closes his eyes and stretches his powers, but before he can begin to investigate the condition of the waters, a familiar presence draws near.

 

Furina shrieks when a massive head pokes out from the surface. "Ah! What is this thing?" She grabs Neuvillette's left arm in a death grip as she hides half of her body behind him.

 

The head laughs. "Do all humans suffer from such memory issues or are you amongst the unlucky ones?"

 

"Huh?"

 

"Furina, surely you remember Scylla. You met fairly recently."

 

"Scy– Oh. I met him in a human form so I thought– Nevermind." Her panic subsides, but she doesn't let go of Neuvillette.

 

Scylla's amusement seems to be short-lived. "My Sovereign, some problems have arisen. I was patrolling the area and took notice of movement from the nation on the north. Not simply armies, but also an accumulation of strange elemental powers." North? Neuvillette ponders, the Fatui? Scylla continues, "Furthermore, while the infestation of dark energy has stopped for the moment—likely due to your interference—there have been frequent appearances of dark creatures."

 

"Do they seem to have a specific goal?"

 

"I believe so. They haven't been attacking mindlessly. I did not think much of it at first, but there might be a pattern." There is a thoughtful pause. "I sensed increasing activity on the island of Elynas earlier today, but I don't–"

 

"Elynas?" Neuvillette exclaims in a panic. "That's– That's where Merusea Village–" He attemps to take a calming breath. "I need to go."

 

Furina grabs the back of his coat. "Neuvillette, we don't know anything yet. I know you're worried, but this–"

 

"The melusines might be in danger. There is no time," Neuvillette says. "I apologize for my abrupt departure. And Scylla, thank you for informing me."

 

Scylla appears confused. "I wasn't expecting you to just leave immediately. I only meant to relay the things I have been– "

 

Before he even finishes his sentence, Neuvillette has already disappeared in a flash of blue.

 

The few minutes of swimming it takes to reach Elynas feel like an eternity and Neuvillette's mind races. All is quiet when he arrives. Even as he dives into the small lake that leads to Merusea Village, there is no sign of danger.

 

But then he sees it: A barrier made of purple swirling energy—not entirely abyssal, but it is pulsating with the power of the void. It is blocking one of the main cave entrances to the village. The thought that it must have been deliberately placed to prevent the melusines from escaping makes Neuvillette's heart speed up and his jaw clenches in fury.

 

With a burst of elemental power stronger than necessary, he destroys the barrier and continues his way forward. A movement from the corner of his eye catches his attention and he notices a melusine hiding in a small crevice in the outskirts of the village.

 

"Cosanzeana? Are you alright? What happened?"

 

Neuvillette's heart clenches at the relief that visibly floods her body. "Monsieur Neuvillette... you're here..." Her eyes are wide with fear. "The village was suddenly attacked by Breacher Primuses! I don't understand... they have never attacked us before. We didn't know what to do."

 

"Please remain where you are. I will come find you once it is safe."

 

Neuvillette puts a protective shield around her before hurrying to the main part of the village. His eyes dart around quickly and he finds most of the houses demolished, with melusines attempting to hide behind the rubble. True to Cosanzeana's words, there are no fewer than twenty Breacher Primuses and they seem to be attacking, though without the intent to kill.

 

When Neuvillette stretches his senses and flicks one hand to freeze the malicious creatures in their tracks, he feels Elynas' energy fluctuate wildly in displeasure—the Breacher Primuses are cells of the abyssal dragon's body, birthed from his wounds the same way melusines were. But Neuvillette's power far surpasses his, and the Primuses drop to the ground when blades of hydro pierce through them, unmoving as their cores shatter.

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette!" Melusine heads peek out from the wreckage.

 

"Are you all unharmed?"

 

The following words are not an answer to his question, instead coming from a new presence entirely. "Hm. Those creatures were even weaker than I first believed. Good riddance." A hooded blonde woman in a white robe appears from the shadows, her heels echoing loudly. There is no trace of emotion in her voice. "Imperfect beings will be of no use."

 

Neuvillette narrows his eyes as the woman continues to speak in an even tone, "A shame that my original creation is incompatible with life. Alas, parts of him will have to suffice."

 

"Your original creation– You are... Gold?"

 

"That is indeed one of my names, yes. I have a proposal for you, Hydro Sovereign."

 

"You are quite audacious to think I will consider your words after you attacked my daughters," Neuvillette says before briefly breaking eye contact to survey the area, accounting for every melusine that he sees.

 

"I assure you it will be a deal beneficial for both sides." Rhinedottir lifts up her sleeves to reveal black arms pulsating with golden ichor. "As you may sense, I have now become one with the Shade of Life. And surely you, as the previous God of Life of these lands, can understand the amount of power I possess." Her heterochromic eyes seem to glimmer with something that Neuvillette can't quite make sense of. "Should you decide to lend your power to our cause, we will be one step closer to overthrowing the Heavenly Principles."

 

Neuvillette chooses to disregard her words entirely. "For what reason did you try to cause harm to the melusines?"

 

"My creations were but a step towards my pursuit of perfection. And what could be closer to this goal than them fulfilling the purpose they were made for? Though Elynas no longer lives, his children have abilities that can prove useful. Those life forms you refer to as 'Breacher Primuses' lack reason and are only useful for following orders. Melusines, however, could–"

 

Neuvillette doesn't let her finish, "Enough. The melusines are not tools, they are people. I refuse to entertain any of your preposterous plans."

 

"Am I wrong in my assumption that we share a common purpose?"

 

"My purpose is justice. If judging the Heavenly Principles includes the suffering of innocents, then it cannot be called justice."

 

Rhinedottir scoffs. "You are naive, Sovereign of Hydro. Sacrifices must be made for a greater cause. My own children were created for this very reason. I sent them to discover the truth of this world in hopes that they will rebel against it and realize their full potential. It seems that those little sea creatures need–"

 

"Silence!" Neuvillette voice echoes in the caves. "Leave this place, unless you want a battle in your hands."

 

"Even if you could defeat me, a fight of such magnitude would bring disaster. Is this not what you're trying to avoid?"

 

"Leave."

 

Rhinedottir only smirks. "I did not expect an ancient dragon to be so emotional. How very disappointing. But I will give you another chance to consider my proposal." She makes fist with one hand, the other closes around it, and a transmutation cycle appears beneath her feet. "We are closer to our goal than you might think. You will need to pick a side soon; It would be wise to pick the correct one." Extending both arms to her side, she lets herself fall backwards and disappears in a flurry of golden energy.

 

Finally unclenching his hands—his nails have drawn blood, Neuvillette realizes—he turns to look at the melusines, finding Serene doing a headcount.

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette!" she says worriedly. "Cosanzeana is missing! She–"

 

"Worry not. She is safe. I will get her in a moment." Alarmingly, he finds blood on some of the melusines. The injuries don't seem severe, but Neuvillette worries. He is glad that he has become more adept at healing; had this happened months ago, he would only be able to provide some temporary relief. Now, closing wounds comes as natural to him as breathing.

 

After ensuring that there are no more injuries, he returns to the cave he left Cosanzeana at. Once everyone is safe, Serene addresses him, "Monsieur, most of our homes have been destroyed. What do you think we should do? To rebuild them all we would need–"

 

"I am very sorry to propose this, but I believe it would be best for you all to temporarily relocate to the Court of Fontaine. I will provide residence to everyone, of course, and it will allow me to ensure your safety." Neuvillette feels guilty for interrupting her, but he cannot let any harm come to them.

 

"But–"

 

"The city is so loud–"

 

"The houses there–"

 

"Humans don't–"

 

Serene cuts in, "Alright, alright everyone. Monsieur Neuvillette said it would be temporary. And it's not safe for us here right now. The cursed human with the gold strings might return."

 

Cursed? I didn't notice such a thing. The way melusines view the world never ceases to amaze Neuvillette.

 

He feels terrible, however, that he has to take them away from their homes. It should be their own choice to move to the city if they wish to do so. It was this way when he first introduced the melusines to the human world four centuries ago, and it is this way now that more of them live and work at the court. How utterly shameful, he thinks, for a parent to ask such a thing of their children.

 

A soft touch on his forearm bring him out of his thoughts. "Monsieur Neuvillette, it's alright. We understand. Today was... scary."

 

"Mhm. Mamere is right. We trust you, Monsieur. So please don't feel sad." Sedile says.

 

Neuvillette sighs, but a gentle smile crosses his face. "Thank you all for your trust. I promise to do my utmost to take care of this situation."

 

A comfortable silence settles over the village, albeit tinged with melancholy, as the melusines collect whatever remains of their belongings.

 

Neuvillette ponders. It must be raining heavily on the surface. I will also need to contact Manaia in Natlan. Though I regret having to cut her vacation short, her safety takes priority.

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette?" There is a pull on his coatail.

 

"Yes, Laume?"

 

"Is what that lady said true?" Her voice sounds small, almost afraid. "That the purpose of our existence is to help her fight against this world? That we are meant to fulfill the... role that Elynas had and there is no other reason for us being born?"

 

Neuvillette's next inhale is sharp. He thinks of Carole, who strived so hard to find her purpose in a society that shunned her very existence. Sweet Carole, who only wanted to be understood and appreciated, but instead was forced to take her own life to prove her innocence. "No. None of this is true." He cannot have something like this happen again. "The reason for anybody's creation, is what their creator wanted it to be, for they have no choice in being born. Their purpose, however, is what they want it to be. Do you understand, Laume?" The desperation in his voice is palpable. "You are not here to fight for anyone, nor to follow their ambitions. You all are here simply to be yourselves and to find what makes you happy."

 

"Oh. Okay. " She pulls up her knees to her chest when she sits next to Neuvillette, letting her head rest on the side of his leg. "I have been happy, I think."

 

"Would participating in Gold's plan make you happier?"

 

"No. I don't want to fight," Laume says. "I want to be a reporter."

 

"Then that is what you should do."

 

"Hm. Alright."

 

 

---

 

 

It is a well known fact that the Tsaritsa has no love left for her people. What is less known, however, is that she has no love left at all. Not even for herself.

 

"Your Majesty, by offering your own body to a soul of such power, it is very likely that there will be nothing remaining of your consciousness."

 

"I am aware. But if that soul has the same goals as I, what difference does it make? Destroying the current order of the world—the one that is based on lies and illusions—that's what is important. And as long as all the precautions are in place, that being will be under the Fatui's direct control."

 

 

 

 

Notes:

Gold's first appearance!! This chapter doesn't reveal much about my version of her character but my inspiration for her is Aizen from Bleach. Anyone who has read/watched the show might find some similarities in future chapters :D

Chapter 7: Liminality

Notes:

If this chapter looks rushed, it's because it's supposed to. I wanted to show how quickly things can turn and how we can go from a peaceful day to absolute chaos in the span of a second:)

"Father is hiding things from us."

 

"I know, Lynette. She must have her reasons."

 

Lynette takes a sip of her morning tea. "Don't you think we should know what's going on, Lyney? The Tsaritsa sent all Snezhnayan citizens away from the capital city without disclosing any information. We may be citizens of Fontaine, but this is important."

 

"I know, damn it!" Lyney runs a hand over his face. "Sorry, Lynette. I just– I tried talking to Father, but she wouldn't tell me anything. I thought that... as her heir, at least–" A long sigh leaves him and he tries to give his sister a reassuring smile. "I'm sure it will be fine. No matter what confidential mission the higher ups are planning, Father would tell us if we were in danger. So cheer up! We have a show tomorrow, we can't be looking all gloomy."

 

Lynette only narrows her eyes at him.

 

"I... have been worried, too." A soft voice comes from the doorway.

 

"Oh, Freminet! I was just telling Lynette about tomorrow's–"

 

"He knows, Lyney. He heard us. And Freminet isn't stupid, he can tell that something isn't right."

 

"Hey now, I didn't mean–"

 

Freminet doesn't approach them, instead moving closer to the front door, diving gear in his arms. "It's okay. I know that you're just worried about us, Lyney. But... you don't have to pretend that everything is normal."

 

That's all I know how to do, Lyney wants to say. Instead, he settles on: "Really, it will be fine! As your big brother, I promise to look more into it and let you both know if I come across something important."

 

"Please... don't do anything reckless," is what Freminet says before leaving.

 

The twins sit in silence for a few minutes. Lynette picks at the skin of her hands, a nervous habit that makes itself especially prominent in such situations. It's the sound of a chair scraping against the floor that finally makes her look up. "You're leaving too?"

 

"Just going out to get some air."

 

"Okay," she stares at him wearily but lets the matter drop. "Can you get some food for the cats while you're out?"

 

"Sure." She still looks worried, Lyney thinks. That won't do. So he does what he knows best. Grabbing his hat from the table, he spins it around his left arm and then performs a dramatic bow to signal his exit. "Don't eat all the snacks while I'm gone."

 

"You're going to the market anyway. Just get more." Lynette's tone is even, but she can't help a slight roll of her eyes. Exasperation is infinitely better than worry, in Lyney's opinion.

 

 

---

 

"I heard from Barbeloth that you tried to get the hydro dragon to join your cause."

 

"Not quite. But he's the only sovereign possessing his full power. He could be a thorn on our side."

 

"Hm."

 

Rhinedottir shrugs. "I have nothing personal against him, but this is the era of humanity. I let the fall of Khaenri'ah happen just to weaken those at the top. Sacrifices are necessary for the greater good."

 

"What about the rest of the sovereigns? Overthrowing the Heavenly Principles will likely result in the destruction of all elemental thrones."

 

"I have plans for them as well." Rhinedottir flicks some non existent dirt from her white robe. "And they won't reincarnate. Not if we let the Abyss Order proceed with their plan."

 

"I had a feeling you'd say something like that. But you know my stance on those matters."

 

"It must be done."

 

"I hope you keep in mind that my role as the sustainer of Teyvat's borders doesn't involve cleaning up your messes," Alice warns.

 

 

---

 

Neuvillette summons Wriothesley, Navia and Clorinde to his office. Because he considers them highly dependable and trustworthy, he said. Because he believes in their abilities to prevent panic from spreading, he said. But it sure fucking looks like a panic-worthy situation, Wriothesley thinks as he sees the slight tremble of Neuvillette's hands—his efforts to appear composed not as successful as he'd wanted.

 

"Is this worse than the flood?" Navia questions.

 

Neuvillette's sharp intake of breath is answer enough, but his verbal confirmation creates a chill in the office. "... Potentially." This isn't what anyone wanted to hear.

 

"Well, shit."

 

Wriothesley lets out a loud laugh. Or at least he hopes the noise he just made resembles one. "That sounded like something I would say."

 

That earns him an elbow to his side. "It looks like you're rubbing off on me," Clorinde says.

 

Neuvillette levels them both with a serious look. But it is Navia that does the scolding this time, "You two, stop fooling around. This is not the time and place."

 

"Sorry." An apologetic look crosses Clorinde's face but is instantly replaced with one of determination. "What do we need to do?"

 

"Not much can be done at the moment. But I need you to be alert and prepared for emergency measures. Also," Neuvillette leans back on his chair, the movement betraying his exhaustion, as he continues, "I have to ask you three to take care of the most significant matters here in the event of my absence from Fontaine."

 

"What?" Navia shrieks in surprise. "You would leave knowing that Fontaine is–"

 

"Think, Navia." Clorinde interrupts her. "If Monsieur Neuvillette needs to be away from Fontaine, it can only mean that this is a Teyvat-wide level threat."

 

"Unfortunately, you are correct. But there is still hope that it will not come to that."

 

"Ah, right. That makes sense." Navia deflates. "Sorry for my outburst, Monsieur. It's too early for me to think clearly." She laughs but it sounds tense. "And the situation is certainly not helping."

 

That is quite an understatement. But Wriothesley is very familiar with the need to cope with such events by making light of them; it is something he has done since his early childhood days.

 

"Just what in Celestia's name are we dealing with?" Wriothesley murmurs quietly.

 

But Neuvillette's ears pick it up, because of course they do. "Hm, that is indeed part of the issue we are dealing with."

 

Huh?

 

Once the meeting is adjourned, the duke walks out of the Palais with a newfound heaviness in his steps. Apparently, the four cups of tea he had in Neuvillette's office are incapable of holding the remnants of his sanity together. So he makes a very logical decision: going to buy more tea.

 

The transition from world ending scenarios to the normalcy of the fontainian marketplace is jarring. People are going about their daily lives, arguing about pointless maters, laughing and gossiping as they did the days before; none the wiser to the uncertainty of the days after. Ignorance is bliss, I guess.

 

A soft meow grabs his attention and he looks down to see an orange cat rubbing on his legs. With a rare genuine smile on his face, Wriothesley bends one knee to reach for the cat's head. "Hey there, little guy." A loud purr answers his pets, bringing forth a joyous laugh. "Thanks for keeping me from losing my shit."

 

"It's you!" Who, me? "What are you doing to that cat?" The voice behind him is familiar; the anger in its tone even more so.

 

"Well, well, if it isn't the little magician that snuck into my fortress."

 

"Don't call me that. And I asked you a question." Lyney crosses his arms as he walks closer. "What are you doing to that cat?"

 

"I'm pretty sure this is called petting." Is the kid stupid? he doesn't say.

 

"Don't get sarcastic with me. I know what kind of person you are. Did you think I forgot what you did to my siblings?"

 

"Might I remind you that you guys snuck into my fortress and tried snooping around to get information for the Fatui?" Wriothesley raises a single eyebrow, now getting up from his crouching position. "Hey kid, I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I never actually harmed you or your siblings. Keep your grudges all you want, but don't approach me at random just to talk shit."

 

"Whatever." The irritation doesn't leave Lyney's voice, but his cheeks take on a slightly red tinge. "I'm here to feed the cat."

 

"Fine, fine. I can take a hint." Wriothesley smirks but he starts walking away. "I need more tea," he grumbles under his breath.

 

 

---

 

 

"It is time for our attack against Celestia," the cryo archon announces. "Before the sun has reached its peak, this body will no longer belong to me. My soul will return to the leylines and another soul will take its place." Heels echoing loudly, she takes steady steps towards the altar, where six chess pieces have been placed.

 

"Hm. The soul of the Dragon King, Nibelung. I wonder how much of his consciousness has remained intact."

 

"You will not experiment on Her Majesty's body, Dottore." Pierro levels him with a hard look.

 

"A care little for what becomes of this vessel, as long as our end goal is accomplished." The Tsaritsa enhances her body in a layer of cryo and closes her eyes. "I have allowed you all to act independently for years, so my absence will be of little importance in the grand scheme of things. You need only keep the dragon king under control."

 

"Of course, Your Majesty. The moon fragments hold enough power to ensure that Nibelung follows our orders."

 

Plunging her right hand in her chest cavity, the Tsaritsa removes the cryo gnosis and allows it to float towards the other six. The ritual itself does not take long. One moment, she is reaching for the glowing ball of energy with a gloved hand, and the next she is plummeting to the floor. A brief moment of silence passes.

 

Then, a blinding light envelops the area and shoots towards the sky—an explosion of pure elemental power that pierces a hole in the fake dome. The ground shakes. A wall of the palace crumbles.

 

The being in the center of the altar rises. Its pale skin has taken on a purple tint, blue eyes replaced by twin black voids, veins bulging unnaturally.

 

"He is more corrupted than we anticipated. Proceed to plan B." The pull of a lever elicits a sharp gasp from Nibelung, and then he is trapped in a mechanical cage, both types of power locked away.

 

"Such interesting power." Dottore grins as he steps closer.

 

"Don't forget the plan, Dottore," Arlecchino warns.

 

 

 

---

 

 

The Opera Epiclese is still.

 

"How does the defendant plead?"

 

"Guilty, Your Honor."

 

A massive blast of energy sends a tremor through the courtroom. Neuvillette glances upwards with narrowed eyes, eyebrows creased as he attempts to locate the source of the disturbance.

 

This presence is– Neuvillette's hands on his cane tighten and he rises from his seat. "My apologies. Something urgent has–"

 

There is another surge of power; it is accompanied by a deafening sound that shakes the entirety of Tevyat and creates cracks all throughout the sky's veil.

 

Neuvillette is out of the Opera Epiclese before he can process his body moving—someone will have to give a proper explanation on his behalf—and he's rushing past the Fountain of Lucine.

 

People run around in panic, shouting about a 'second prophecy'.

 

His palms sweat inside his gloves as he tries to make sense of the situation. The initial energy was unmistakably that of King Nibelung. The one that followed can only be... the Heavenly Principles? Why are they awake? Why now? Was the surge of power intense enough to awaken them?

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette?" Clorinde is right behind him, panting as she tries to catch her breath. "What's happening?"

 

"I cannot say for certain." He stares up at the sky, a blood red color peeking through the cracks. "But Clorinde, please get the citizens inside the Opera Epiclese. Things could turn quickly."

 

No more words are exchanged. Neuvillette hears a familiar roar and he focuses his gaze on the water separating Erinnyes and the Court, just in time to see Scylla's enormous body breach the surface before diving back in.

 

People scream in alarm and Neuvillette feels Clorinde stiffen and reach for her gun. "No need."

 

Her eyes seem to search for something in his own and then she asks hesitantly, "An ally?"

 

"Yes, indeed." The form emerges from the water once again, a high jump followed by a flash of light. The light disperses, revealing a humanoid body that lands on the grass next to the Opera.

 

In a single movement, Scylla is standing beside Neuvillette and Clorinde. The duelist stiffens again, but makes no further move.

 

"Is this what the nation of ice has been planning? The resurrection of King Nibelung?" Scylla asks after catching his breath.

 

"It would seem so. I do not know if awakening them was part of these plans."

 

"Are we to follow King Nibelung?"

 

"This is not your fight, Scylla. You had no involvement in–"

 

Scylla cuts in, "Neither did you. But now it seems that the arrogance of a few humans could be the downfall of their entire race. The Heavenly Principles will do whatever it takes to stabilize Teyvat."

 

Neuvillette rubs his forehead. "I know. And Nibelung is most likely too corrupted by forbidden knowledge to think rationally."

 

"So you need to stop both of them." The only reply is a shaky exhale.

 

"Neuvillette." Both dragons turn to Clorinde. "You warned us about this. We'll take care of things here. Do what you need to do."

 

Neuvillette gives her a grateful nod. "Thank you. I trust you, Clorinde." He then turns to Scylla. "The influence of the Abyss will surely increase. Are you able to deal with any ensuing attacks and leyline disturbances in the surrounding areas?"

 

"Of course." Scylla's scales glimmer and he bows his head slightly, before leaving again in a blur of elemental energy.

 

Neuvillette can't help but gasp when the floating island in the sky shakes and begins to glow. His hands tremble with the fear of knowing what's coming, because of course, that's how Celestia operates. Raising his right arm, palm facing the crumbling sky, he begins to gather water from his surroundings.

 

Notes:

Hear me out. I have this theory that Nibelung is the cryo sovereign. Now, listen, most people think he's the leader of the seven sovereigns without being one of them, but I disagree. And I might be completely wrong, but there's too many connections between cryo and the moons for it to be a coincidence. Why did Nod Krai use to be a part of Snezhnaya if it's a place that worships the moons, unless it has something to do with the fact that Nibelung created the 3 original moons? But idk, there might be parts of the lore I have forgotten to take into account. In any case, even if I'm wrong, let's pretend that this is true for the sake of this fanfic.

Chapter 8: Even If The Sky Falls

Notes:

Technically Nahida made Dottore delete his clones in the Sumeru archon quest, but she never said anything about making new ones so. Dottore just created more:D

Zapolyarny Palace shakes. The final Celestial Nail begins to fall.

 

"Is that why you brought this clone, Dottore?" Pantalone asks. "You reassured us that this place would hold, but you yourself knew the modifications you made were never strong enough. You couldn't even bother to show up in your original form."

 

Dottore laughs. "Are you saying you're not powerful enough to survive by yourselves? You might as well die here, then."

 

"The dragon–"

 

"Will be fine," Pierro cuts in. "The gods in Celestia felt Nibelung's rebirth and are acting out of panic. But they don't know that the Tsaritsa's body is the vessel and that the cryo throne has been destroyed now. The nail will kill a lot of us here, but Nibelung—no matter how corrupted—will be enraged by the attack."

 

"And who will stop him if he takes down the Heavenly Principles and proceeds to wreak havoc in Teyvat?" Pulcinella questions. "Surely the Abyss Order will use this opportunity to attack as well."

 

"Yes. They will provide a useful distraction."

 

 

---

 

 

Neuvillette floats above the Opera Epiclese.

 

It seems I will have to put it to the test sooner than I expected.

 

Closing his eyes, he joins his hands in front of his chest, palms facing each other, and envisions his true form. The humidity in the air coalesces around his body and his blood stirs. Neuvillette breathes deeply, and his next exhale is accompanied by a blue flash of light.

 

His rhinophores elongate first, and his senses sharpen as they are flooded with everything the water carries. Smooth skin turns into blue and white scales, long fins form at his sides, and a long silver mane takes the place of his white hair. Neuvillette hears the cracking of bones as they give way, but he feels no pain. As the water guides him through the process, his human form is soon replaced by a massive serpentine body—one large enough to tower over the Opera and wrap its tail around the building. It is a body hundreds of times heavier than his human one, yet he feels as if a weight has been lifted.

 

The dragon of hydro flies higher and only stops once the entirety of Fontaine is in his field of vision. He doesn't move to stand in the way of the incoming nail; it is not his duty to protect every nation in Teyvat, and Celestia's nails are a calamity in and of themselves. In any case, there is not enough time for him to prevent the disaster and Fontaine is the country closest to the nail's intended target. He hopes the Fatui had enough foresight to come up with a way to protect their own people.

 

Using water from the atmosphere and the clouds above, Neuvillette creates a thin protective barrier around Fontaine, extending all the way from Romaritime Harbor to Mount Esus. He then heads north, collecting the blocks of condensed water from Fontaine's old Research Institute to reinforce the side of the barrier that borders Snezhnaya.

 

The nail falls in the center of Snezhnaya's capital city. Teyvat shakes. The effect is instantaneous, as a harsh blizzard is released from the point of impact. Neuvillette puts more of his power into the hydro dome, keeping the blizzard at bay. Wind howls and snow begins to fall from the sky; flakes filled with ash and blood and abyssal energy originating from the area Celestia attempted to 'cleanse'. They pelt against the barrier, unable to reach the ground.

 

Neuvillette remembers the years following the Great War of Vengeance, shortly before the death of his predecessor. Celestia dropped the 'divine nails' to suppress abyssal influence caused by the forbidden knowledge Nibelung introduced into the world. And now, they drop the final nail to once again deal with a corrupted Nibelung.

 

How tragic, Neuvillette thinks, that the very first being born into Teyvat is now actively seeking its destruction. How tragic, that the strongest of dragons, the one with unrivaled will, has been poisoned to such an extent. He understands now, why the seven gnoses—Nibelung's remains—are referred to as objects of misfortune.

 

A winged figure emerges from the floating island in the sky. For a moment, they meet Neuvillette's eyes, his large serpentine body standing out right above Fontaine. There is a clash of power, a blinding white light meeting a dark abyssal frost. Both powers are considerably weaker than they are supposed to be—Nibelung from the fallen nail, and the usurper from the cataclysm—yet a single clash creates a shockwave throughout the continent. Neither of them would particularly care if humans were caught in the crossfire, it is only the collective fate of the world that matters.

 

Neuvillette will seek for ways to minimize the damages for the time being. Only if he is able to guarantee humanity's safety will he join the battle.

 

An otherworldly, loud voice echoes, "I, Phanes, call upon my four shining shades to join this fight as one."

 

But it is only two beings that appear at his side. "I see. Naberius and Asmodey refuse to show."

 

"Naberius is no longer–"

 

"I do not wish to hear excuses, Ronova." Phanes extends his arms in front of his body, palms facing upwards, and the bodies of the other two freeze in place. "Come." A white glow covers the sky and it disperses to reveal one figure instead of three.

 

Did he... devour them?

 

The fight resumes, clashing energies obstruct the sun, and the cracked sky begins to give away.

 

"Fascinating, isn't it?"

 

Neuvillette's head snaps to his left. "Gold."

 

"We meet again, hydro sovereign. But you knew that I would use this opportunity, didn't you?" Rhinedottir titls her head slightly. "It is time for you to make a decision." Without waiting for Neuvillette's answer, her form warps away and a red light appears on Celestia.

 

 

---

 

 

Screams echo in the Court of Fontaine.

 

"Please, everyone remain calm," Talochard says, raising her voice high enough to be heard over the cacophony. "Follow our instructions and we will get you to a safe place."

 

"Talochard!" Sigewinne comes running. "Is anyone hurt? I thought I might be needed up here."

 

"I don't think so. But you should probably head over to the hospital in case things get bad. There are already rescue and medical teams surveying the area."

 

Sigewinne nods. "I will. But good luck here. I know humans can be difficult when they're panicking."

 

"I don't get it." Mamere joins them. Even though she's only temporarily staying in the city, she's already perplexed by human behavior. "They're scared of everything. They even seem afraid of Monsieur Neuvillette. Do they lose their memory when they panic?"

 

Sigewinne laughs. "No, Mamere. Humans don't know that Monsieur Neuvillette is a dragon and even those who saw him transform probably find this form scary."

 

"But he looks exactly the same as before."

 

"Well... to us, yes," Talochard explains. "But humans have different eyes. And they're already on edge due to whatever is happening."

 

"Hmm. But things will be okay, right?" Mamere hesitantly looks up at the sky.

 

"Of course!" Talochard takes out her whistle. "I need to go back to work."

 

"Ah, yes! I'll go see if my help is needed at the hospital."

 

"What should I do?" Mamere asks. "Most of us who live in the village don't know much about these situations, but we can help."

 

"I think we can handle it for now," Talochard reassures her. "Just get to safety and we'll let you know if we need help."

 

 

---

 

 

At the area where Mount Esus meets the southernmost part of Snezhnaya, Fontainan and Snezhnayan forces are facing creatures of the abyss.

 

"What the fuck," Wriothesley bites out as he throws a cryo covered punch at an Abyss Herald.

 

A wave of hydro accompanies his next attack. "What? Tired already? It looks like you're not as strong as they say."

 

"Funny coming from someone who was taken out by a single hit."

 

Tartaglia glares at Wriothesley. "Hey!" He fires off a series of hydro arrows. "What can I say? I like a challenge."

 

Wriothesley rolls his eyes when Tartaglia narrowly avoids a shot aimed for his neck. "Maybe focus on keeping your head connected to your body before you think about challenging Neuvillette to a fight."

 

"My head is perfectly fine, thank you."

 

"Somehow I doubt that."

 

Wriothesley has no idea how Teyvat fell into chaos from one moment to the next, but he's glad he wasn't in the Fortress today. The news would have taken too long to reach him. And he would hate to miss the rare sight of Fatui and Maison Gardiennage officers fighting side by side. Though, he's pretty sure that the Fatui have something to do with the abyss attacking in the first place. Whatever started this mayhem came from the own base. Still, 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' or whatever they say.

 

"Duke Wriothesley!"

 

With his left arm embedded in what seems to be the enemy creature's guts, Wriothesley turns his head. "Well well, if it isn't the Spina di Rosula. A fan of being fashionably late?"

 

"I was in Poisson." Navia narrows her eyes at him.

 

Wriothesley retracts his arm and shakes off his gauntlet. "I know, just trying to lighten the situation," he says, "Is Clorinde with you?"

 

"No, she's taking care of things in the Opera Epiclese and then she'll meet up with the rest of our forces."

 

"Well, she better hurry. Things are not looking too good."

 

As a way to prove his point, the ground shakes once again. "Shit." Wriothesley loses his balance and is almost decapitated by a stray arrow.

 

"Hah!" Tartaglia exclaims, "Who should be focused on keeping his head now, comrade?"

 

Enemies keep coming; the abyssal abnormalities providing the ideal environment for a coordinated attack. The good thing is that Neuvillette's hydro barrier is protecting them from the nail's effects and from whatever else is happening outside. The bad thing is that the enemy also happens to be on the inside of the barrier. At this rate, they will keel over from exhaustion before making a dent in the enemy lines.

 

"No! Freminet, wait!"

 

At the shout, Wriothesley turns to his left and watches as Freminet blocks a cryo strike with his own cryo-infused claymore. "Is that–"

 

"Dottore," Tartaglia says through clenched teeth.

 

"Dottore? Isn't he one of the harbingers? Why would he be on the side of the Abyss?"

 

"The harbinger Dottore is still in Snezhnaya. This is a different Dottore, one that apparently has dealings with the abyss. And a cryo delusion to top it off." Tartaglia groans. "Man, I've never liked this guy. Every version of his is a pain in the ass."

 

Wriothesley narrows his eyes. "Does what you just said make sense to you? Because I honestly–"

 

"Nevermind that. We need to–"

 

"Freminet!"

 

Shit. Wriothesley urges his feet to move when he sees Freminet prepare to block a hit aimed at his siblings. He can't possibly block that. He will– Wriothesley runs, his boots squelching as he steps on blood and whatever remains of the ones that fell. But he can't shove the boy out of the way or it will be Lyney and Lynette who take the hit. He meets Dottore's attack head on with his own ice, cryo energy joining Freminet's to form a shield in front of them.

 

But Dottore's ice burns. Unlike a regular cryo vision, this one feels like acid on his skin; it is imbued with an abyssal substance that sets his body aflame. A sharp hiss from his side reveals that Freminet also came in contact with it. He has to finish this.

 

Enhancing his arms in ice, all the way from his gauntlets to his shoulders, Wriothesley moves his body to hide Freminet from view and aims a punch at Dottore's jaw, making him stumble a few steps back. The harbinger—or whatever this Dottore is—splits his own cryo into ice shards and fires them at Wriothesley, forcing him to shield his face with his metal gauntlets. His attempt at a counterattack falls short when the very air around him digs painfully into his skin, his sight obstructed by another wave of cryo, and then–

 

"Wriothesley, watch out!" Navia's voice? Why is she shouting?

 

Ah, shit. A piercing pain blooms on the right side of his face and his vision swims. He feels something hot run down his cheek before falling to his knees. Fuck.

Chapter 9: Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat

Notes:

The chapter title is Latin for "Fortune favors the brave". The reason I kept the original phrase is because it has the word 'Fortuna' in it, which is the name of the Remurian ship that inspired Wriothesley's own ship, the Wingalet. And since Wriothesley shows up a lot in this chapter, I thought it'd be pretty nice to connect it with his interest in Remuria.

Clorinde is not having a good day. It was still early afternoon when a migraine started brewing behind her eyes, and it only intensified as the trial progressed. In all honesty, Clorinde wants nothing more than to return home and sleep. But it seems that Teyvat has other plans.

 

When the first earthquake shakes the Opera Epiclese, she isn't too concerned. Not much can faze her after the prophesied flood. But a glance at Neuvillette's visibly shocked face and the following second quake cause her stomach to drop to her feet. Following him out of the courthouse, she attempts to assess the situation.

 

The sky... Are those... cracks?

 

No, Clorinde is not having a good day.

 

But she is nothing if not professional. Maintaining her impassive facade proves to be harder than usual when an enormous creature jumps from the sea and morphs into something resembling a human, but she swallows down every emotion that could endanger her duties. She has years of experience, after all.

 

Clorinde watches as Celestia mounts an attack on Snezhnaya. She watches as two silhouettes start to duel in the sky, power so potent that the ground shakes. She watches as a blue light envelops Neuvillette's body and he transforms into something—a dragon—even larger than the creature she saw earlier.

 

Cold sweat rolls down her face and her hands tremble. She can't panic now. But this fear, this helplessness, this knowledge that the current situation is so far beyond her human capabilities brings a visceral reaction that almost drives Clorinde to her knees. But she can't panic now. She reassured Neuvillette that she could handle things here, so that's what she'll do.

 

She doesn't get to, because soon she receives word that Fontaine's borders are under attack. Her next actions are a blur as her instincts take over and a while later she finds herself rushing towards Mount Esus.

 

As soon as the battlefield comes into view, she registers Navia's shout. "Wriothesley, watch out!"

 

An enemy strikes Wriothesley down with shards of ice, dark crimson painting the cryo-infused ground. Clorinde's electro vision sends a bolt through her body and before the enemy can go for a second strike, she is at Wriothesley's side, barreling into him and sending them both rolling on the grass.

 

"Oh, ouch." Clorinde hears Navia's gun fire off twice before they come to a stop. "I'm fine, I'm fine."

 

Like hell you are. "Like hell you are."

 

The right side of Wriothesley's face is entirely covered with blood and a deep gash runs across his eye. With how gnarly the wound looks, there is close to zero chance this eye can be salvaged. "Wriothesley–"

 

"It's fine. I've seen enough."

 

She blinks at the absurdity of his words. Did he seriously just say that?

 

"Hey, just a joke." Wriothesley tries to stiffle a pained groan. "I have two of them anyway."

 

"Not anymore, you don't." Clorinde rises to her feet and offers him a hand.

 

He barks out a laugh which turns into a choked sputter when blood gets into his mouth. "Ah fuck, it hurts. I think the ice was laced with something."

 

"Poison?"

 

"I don't think so. It just... burns."

 

Clorinde hums and tears off a piece of her clothes to cover the wound on Wriothesley's face. "I'll find someone to take you back to the Court so you can get it checked."

 

"Huh? I can keep–"

 

"Shut up. I would escort you myself if I wasn't needed here." She looks over to where Navia and the Hearth kids are fighting Dottore. The rest of Fontaine's and Snezhnaya's forces don't seem to be doing much better—the abyss is slowly gaining more ground.

 

A gust of wind draws a hiss from Wriothesley and Clorinde looks up when a shadow falls overhead. For a moment, Neuvillette's dragon form floats above them, then there is a bright flash and a loud bang. Dottore's body is pinned against the hydro barrier, suspended in the air as Neuvillette—now in his human form—holds him by the throat.

 

"Wait–"

 

Dottore doesn't get to complete his sentence because Neuvillette plunges his free hand into his chest and squeezes. There is a sickening squelching of flesh when Neuvillette crushes his heart, blood rushing out of Dottore's mouth and nose before the hand around his throat recedes and he crumbles to the ground.

 

Neuvillette opens his mouth to call out to Wriothesley and Clorinde but is interrupted by a different voice, "It seems that I arrived late."

 

Arlecchino steps through the barrier and acknowledges Neuvillette with a sharp nod. "I will deal with the abyssal forces here. You may focus on the more... pressing matters," she addresses him while glancing at the battle unfolding in the sky.

 

"Thank you." Neuvillette pauses, as if meaning to say more, but he decides against it and takes off again.

 

Clorinde notices Wriothesley's body moving next to her, and she turns to see him shivering, his teeth chattering and the uninjured part of his face pale enough to paint a sharp contrast against the red-stained cloth. "Hey. Undo the cryo around your arms."

 

"It's– I– I can't–"

 

"What do you mean you can't? Is the... substance affecting your cryo vision?"

 

"Maybe." Wriothesley draws his coat closer and burries his face in it. "But it's– it's fine. I think I'm... getting– getting warm again."

 

"No, you're not. That's just one the stages of hypothermia. Wriothesley," Clorinde says harshly, "you have to undo the ice."

 

"I can help," another voice says. "I'll use my pyro vision to melt it."

 

"H– huh?" Wriothesley addresses Lyney, "I thought you– thought you hated me."

 

"I don't like you," Lyney scoffs. "But you saved my brother." Activating his vision, he begins to melt the ice around Wriothesley's arms.

 

It takes a while for Wriothesley to get warm enough that he doesn't feel like his limbs will fall off. "Thanks, kid." Lyney glares at him.

 

"You're still going to the city to get medical attention," Clorinde says. "Now that the situation is on our favor, I can accompany you."

 

"You don't have to. I'll be fine."

 

"I don't care. Someone needs to," Clorinde rolls the next words around her tongue, debating if she should say them, "keep an eye on you."

 

Wriothesley bites his lip to keep from laughing. "Wow. You really just said that?"

 

She puts his right arm over her shoulders. "I can't believe it either. You're a horrible influence." 

 

 

---

 

 

Neuvillette is terrified. Not for himself, but for his people, for his nation. For his melusines, for his humans. He isn't quite sure when he started referring to them as such, but he finds that in uncertain times his draconic instincts intensify. He wonders if his fellow sovereigns would find it shameful; he wonders if they would find it pathetic and treacherous to care for the very creatures that the usurpers stole their world for. But Neuvillette can't help it. He wants—needs—to protect them.

 

He has always thought it was his destiny to judge the Heavenly Principles and bring justice to his kin. But right now, when the usurper is actively under attack, he can't join the fight to overthrow them. Not when the aforementioned attackers have no care for the damage they are causing, for the innocents they are killing. Not when amongst the attackers is a corrupted King Nibelung, his soul shamelessly used as a weapon, and another being who considers life a game to be played in their terms.

 

Of course, Neuvillette isn't so naive as to think that judging the usurper is a simple matter that requires no sacrifices. But for this very reason he would have taken centuries to come up with a proper plan that wouldn't endanger the things he cares about. This blatant disregard for life that is currently displayed by all fractions is unforgivable. He hopes those in charge of protecting the other nations share his opinion.

 

And what of the remaining sovereigns? Would they pick King Nibelung's side on this battle, after having experienced the great war of vengeance? Or would they also attempt to protect this world and the lives it nurtures? But why are they not doing either? Do they condemn Teyvat as a whole? Or are they waiting for an opening to finally take back their authorities?

 

Neuvillette will never admit it aloud, but being on his own scares him. Feeling the air on his scales, he attempts to suppress a shiver.

 

A bright purple flash appears near Natlan and then a loud cry reverberates across all nations. It is not a human cry, in fact it is not a cry of any specific creature—it is a cry of the very world itself. The leylines? Irminsul?

 

The sky shatters completely, its remaining pieces falling apart to reveal an endless red chasm, fragments of the three moons floating mindlessly in the void. The fake sun keeps shining, now reflecting off the dead moons and painting the darkness in a fiery orange color. A fitting one, for the day of the apocalypse. For the day the world burns.

 

The usurper—Phanes—is momentarily stunned, scrambling to reassemble the pieces. But a momentary falter is opportunity enough. When Nibelung freezes Phanes' wings in place and sends pulses of dark-colored ice at his limbs, Gold fires two consecutive blasts of condensed energy, severing the frozen wings. Then, she is behind Phanes, punching a hole in the middle of his chest and leaving behind a vastness that keeps growing as the abyssal energies spread. In a last desperate attempt he activates his healing powers and it is all the distraction Nibelung needs to aim an ice shard at Phanes' head and impale him all the way through, from his face to the back of his head.

 

The impact is immediate. Teyvat shakes and Neuvillette tries to contain the resulting explosion of power. The usurper's body flickers weakly. Dangerously. Neuvillette uses the air's humidity to quickly propel his serpentine body forward and collects the falling body with his claws. And he moves faster than he ever has before. He flies away and within seconds he reaches the area beyond the Dark Sea. It is a place abandoned, a place that holds remains of ancient gods and reminders of battles from millenia ago. He dives into the first body of water he encounters.

 

Phanes' body shakes one final time and releases the remaining energy anchoring it to this world. Neuvillette focuses all his power to contain the blast, using the waters around him as an opposing force. It still creates a deep trench on the seafloor and raises massive tidal waves, the sudden force lethal to many sea creatures. Rain falls heavily—Neuvillette's instinctive attempt to gain as much elemental power as possible—and joins the unsettled salt waters.

 

Neuvillette growls when rocks pierce his skin, one severing his left horn. The usurper's body dissipates completely with a last explosion of energy that creates a large whirlpool and throws Neuvillette off balance. And then, silence.

 

The hydro sovereign allows himself a moment to breath deeply as stares at the place the body used to be. He waits for a minute. Then two. When nothing else happens, Neuvillette concentrates and gathers enough power to heal himself. He finds that it's getting harder to maintain his draconic form. It doesn't matter. He needs to return.

 

When he resurfaces, he hears sounds of fighting and looks up to see Gold engaged in a fight with Nibelung, the latter seemingly even less in control than before. Neuvillette is sure now, that he must be taken down no matter the cost. As much as he doesn't wish to ally himself with Gold, he recognizes that whatever plan the Fatui had when they resurrected King Nibelung has fallen short. Or rather, wasn't supposed to go this far. He wonders if it has something to do with the change in the leylines.

 

Neuvillette lets the rain fall in torrents and takes off, moving through the air almost as he would in the sea. He flies to Gold's side and turns to face Nibelung.

 

"Hm. I knew you would see reason."

 

"Do not misunderstand. I am not allying myself with you. But I will do whatever it takes to prevent my nation's destruction."

Notes:

This is definitely not my excuse to write Wriothesley with a cool eyepatch.

Also the physics of the stupid fake sky threw me off because they don't make sense at all and I didn't know how to write the actual sky in a believable way. Like, is the fake one just a dome or is the actual atmosphere also made by the primordial one? Would its destruction prevent the absorbance of visible wavelengths? Would it just be darkness? Would toxic air invade Teyvat? I have zero fucking idea. So I took the 'Teyvat has its own laws' and ran with it.

Chapter 10: We Are All Sinners

Notes:

Writing battles is hard😮‍💨 Hopefully this one turned out well

"I'm sorry, Your Grace." Sigewinne's bottom lip quivers as she adjusts the bandage on his face. "I tried my best to heal your eye, but the optic nerve was too damaged and–"

 

"Hey, no, don't worry." Wriothesley gives her a playful flick on the forehead. "I already knew that the eye was done for. It was my own fault, in any case."

 

"I can confirm that he did know the eye was done for," Clorinde says from a nearby chair. "The first thing he told me when I got there was 'I have seen enough'."

 

Sigewinne laughs weakly. "That sounds like him."

 

"And it was his own fault, just as he said."

 

"Jeez. Thank you both for your kind words," Wriothesley mutters, voice laced with sarcasm.

 

The hospital is quiet, but everyone is on edge. For now, Neuvillette's barrier is protecting the city and the areas around it, but they never know when things could go wrong. All emergency services need to be prepare for the worst. Though, with how unprecedented the situation is, 'the worst' could be something no one could imagine. This battle is beyond any human's scope of ability.

 

"Anyway," Clorinde says, "I'll go check on the situation." She glares at Wriothesley. "I better not see you outside until Sigewinne has cleared you."

 

He rolls his eyes. "Fine, fine. It's not like I could escape from her."

 

A second glare is aimed at him and he raises his arms in surrender.

 

 

---

 

 

The atmosphere crackles with tension as three of the most powerful beings in Teyvat face off. At Neuvillette's call, clouds gather around them, creating a vast battlefield in the air. Although the fake sky has crumbled, the sun remains up in the sky. How inconvenient, Neuvillette thinks. It's harder to control his powers with the sun's light shining on him, with its heat trying to evaporate his waters.

 

Nibelung gathers ice around him and the body that used to belong to the Tsaritsa flickers. Limbs twist unaturally, bones snap and flesh expands in an attempt to morph into a different shape. The stench of the Abyss spreads and with a low growl, Nibelung's true form emerges. The cryo archon is all but gone and the cryo dragon is more corrupted than ever before.

 

Neuvillette's own power surges and the hydro in his body stirs. Whatever happened to the ley lines must've turned Teyvat into a world closer to the Light Realm, because he has not felt a connection of such magnitude in millenia—not since his predecessor fought in the War of Vengeance. A solid plan, if one wishes to defeat Phanes. Unfortunately for Neuvillette, his current enemy is as much a creature of the Light as he is. And a stronger one, too.

 

Neuvillette doesn't trust Rhinedottir. He knows that she has no issues with watching her own creations run rampant and massacre innocent beings. She likely only held off Nibelung until Neuvillette arrived so she can observe the fight between two dragon sovereigns. Even so, Nibelung cannot be tamed. If Neuvillette is the one who falls, Rhinedottir will finish the cryo dragon off and take over Teyvat herself.

 

Neuvillette cannot lose. If he wins, he could find a way to negotiate with Gold and minimize casualties. But if it is Nibelung who wins this battle and proceeds to face Gold, people will die either way. No, Neuvillette must not lose.

 

Rhinedottir laughs. "You two, put on a good show for me. Show me why dragons are considered to be the most evolved of species. Show me the power of the ones who govern over them."

 

Nibelung snarls and moves to attack, but Rhinedottir opens a rift under her feet and disappears inside it. Neuvillette takes the opportunity of the other's momentary falter and raises pillars of water from beyond the clouds, letting them converge and sending them to his opponent.

 

The cryo dragon answers by creating a barrier of cryo around himself. The temperature drops and the falling rain turns into a raging hailstorm, lumps of ice laced with a purple hue.

 

Neuvillette gathers more hydro from the clouds surrounding him, massive waves rushing towards Nibelung as he counters them with icy projectiles, water freezing upon impact.

 

Shards of ice crash against Celestia, the left half of the island crumbling and falling from the sky, plummeting towards Teyvat.

 

Neuvillette summons the moisture from the air to further crush the falling pieces and prevent serious damages from their descent. But Nibelung doesn't waste the opening; he sends a large blade of cryo through the hailstones, almost invisible in the icy mist.

 

There is no time for Neuvillette to evade the hit. It rips through him and he can't help but scream in pain as it severs his back left leg. Bright red blood instantly spurts from the torn artery—a color that almost matches the current state of the sky. His breath hitches and his surroundings blur.

 

When Nibelung goes for a second hit, Neuvillette scrambles to form a hydro shield around himself– But that never happens. Instead, what forms is a shield of blood.

 

Neuvillette realizes that he must have unconsciously used the gushing crimson liquid from his wound to stop the oncoming ice. Of course. Blood is within his control. He shall take advantage of this.

 

Using the red barrier to obstruct Nibelung's sight, Neuvillette aims bullets of blood at his head, one piercing through the cryo sovereign's defenses and ripping straight through his right horn.

 

Nibelung growls and lifts his front legs to attack the shield, his claws slashing through it and grazing Neuvillette's left shoulder. The hydro dragon grunts and rushes forward, sinking his teeth into Nibelung's neck.

 

Neuvillette has never fought in a similar manner before. He has always been controlled, dignified, decisive. But this is not the Iudex fighting—it is the dragon of water; it is a creature lethal, dangerous, visceral. He will do whatever it takes to win this fight.

 

He tears a part off of Nibelung's flesh, spitting it out and using the resulting blood to blast the cryo sovereign away.

 

Neuvillette chases after him, but Nibelung rightens himself before the other can attack.

 

It is a fight of pure instinct and Neuvillette feels the person he has been for the past five centuries slowly slip away. Almost as if he is losing himself, piece by piece.

 

They continue this back and forth for hours. Such are fights between immortal creatures, between dragons who draw their power from the very world itself. Teyvat shakes and shakes and yet the battle goes on. As long as this planet stands, so can they. But they are tiring out. At one point, Neuvillette senses the barrier around Fontaine crumble—he doesn't have the energy required to maintain it. Instead, he summons the waters from the now fallen barrier to aid him. He hopes that it at least managed to keep Fontaine from taking too much damage.

 

The dragons crash on a part of whatever remains of Celestia. Neuvillette throws more of his blood towards Nibelung's face and manages to get some into his eyes. The other hisses and Neuvillette readies himself to deal the finishing blow, ignoring the way his vision sways and his ears ring from the loss of blood.

 

But something happens then. A tsunami of abyssal energy enters the planet's leylines and cancels out the realm of the light, locking the sovereigns out of their elemental powers.

 

Neuvillette freezes when he feels the sudden emptiness of a severed connection. It is nothing like the absence of his authority—it is the absence of everything.

 

But Nibelung remains frozen as well; in his current state he is unable to rationally deal with such a situation. And Neuvillette needs to use this opportunity. He needs to. There will not be another. Nibelung might still be able to use some kind of abyssal power. If that is the case, Neuvillette would stand no chance.

 

So he grabs one of the fallen ice shards and plunges it deeply into Nibelung's chest. The other dragon attempts to move, but Neuvillette only twists the shard until it reaches Nibelung's heart. And he once again sinks his teeth into Nibelung's neck, this time going for the jugular and tearing it straight out. He bites again and again until the dragon below him stops moving. Blood pools below him.

 

Even with the leyline disturbance and the disconnection from their elements, Nibelung's body explodes with a loud boom and a rush of power before going completely limp. Neuvillette is thrown against one of the two celestial pillars that remain standing.

 

When his vision clears, he risks a look at Nibelung. So this is it. It's over. Nibelung is dead. Permanently, this time.

 

"The timing was perfect. I'll have to give my thanks to the Abyss Order. Their plan to use the Loom of Fate this way was very convenient."

 

"Gold." Neuvillette tries to rise to his feet, but he becomes painfully aware that he is missing one when he instantly falls back down. Black spots dance around his vision. But he must get up. He must negotiate with Gold. Surely they can find a middle ground. He must find a way to–

 

"Don't take this personally. But I have goals for the future. I don't want you interfering with them."

 

What is she talking about? Does she plan on attacking him right now? He wouldn't be able to defend himself, much less defeat her. Still, he can't give up. He has to– Ah.

 

With a flick of Rhinedottir's right arm, the pillar he's leaning on crumbles, and with it the ground it's built on. It falls.

 

And Neuvillette falls with it.

 

Notes:

I'm sorry for what I'm about to put Neuvillette through.......

Chapter 11: From The Stars To The Abyss

Notes:

The title is just a variation of "Ad astra abyssosque" but in a way that fits the chapter better lol

 

Neuvillette falls.

 

His first instinct is to reach towards Celestia—to find a way to return so he can keep fighting. He has to. He has to.

 

As he lifts up his– Oh. A human arm. It seems that the energy required to sustain his dragon form has run out.

 

The next thought that passes through his mind is that he needs to slow down his descent to the ground. Such a drop would surely be fatal for any being. But getting his power to listen to him seems like an impossible feat. Neuvillette tries to control the humidity in the air around him, but the waters don't respond to his call. He tries again. And again.

 

His descent only accelerates the closer he gets to Teyvat—unfortunately for the current situation, gravity is an absolute law of the universe—and the air cuts into his skin. What a strange sensation, falling is. Neuvillette's stomach turns and his ear drums burst from the pressure, yet there is no pain. On the contrary, it is almost pleasant, almost peaceful.

 

Even through his blurry vision, blinding light infiltrates his eyes. Oh, how he despises the sunlight. With his head tilted towards the red sky, Neuvillette wishes it would rain. It is a fine day for rain.

 

A feeling of gratitude passes through him when the mercy of unconsciousness creeps closer; maybe this fragile form is good for something, after all. He hopes his death is quick. A selfish thought, for he deserves the consequences of his own incompetence. He hopes his body disintegrates and joins the elements that created him, sparing anyone from witnessing the gruesome outcome.

 

I'm sorry. I failed. I'm so sorry. Then everything goes black.

 

And Neuvillette keeps falling.

 

But this body has always been uncompliant, dysfunctional, wrong. It is only seconds later that awareness returns to him with a jolt and brings with it a new emotion: fear.

 

With the ground rushing to meet him, Neuvillette attemps to get his legs under his body—a primal instinct screaming at him to find a position that allows for a chance of survival—but his limbs, too, betray him.

 

He hits the ground hard. There is a loud cracking sound and the feeling of air escaping his body, and then nothing. His mind screeches to a halt and all sensations fade for a single moment.

 

Then, the pain sets in. It is excruciating; a searing agony rippling in waves that tear away every cognitive thought. Numbness envelops Neuvillette's entire body, but the burning pain only intensifies, drawing a soundless scream—and why can't he breathe?

 

Every attempt at getting oxygen into his lungs fails miserably as his body appears to have suddenly forgotten how to perform its basic functions. Why can't he breathe?

 

Blood fills his mouth and throat, but there is no reflex that even tries to expell it. Neuvillette is going to die, he's sure of it, but why must he be tortured so? And why can't he breathe?

 

He desperately scrambles for anything that can get at least one of his lungs to work—a final pathetic call for his elemental power that stabs into his spine and finally, finally reminds his body how to breathe. But the first shallow inhale hitches and brings a new tsunami of harrowing pain; it is so intense that his muscles spasm unconsciously and his eyes roll back into his head, allowing him to sink into the merciful world of unconsciousness.

 

 

---

 

 

Navia is directing members of the Spina di Rosula and removing debris from one of the main streets when her vision flickers and a loud boom echoes across Teyvat, followed by a light that momentarily illuminates the new, darker sky. This in itself is not uncommon for the battle that has been ensuing for the past few hours, but Navia knows that something is different this time. Something is wrong. Did they lose? Actually, she isn't even sure what the meaning of the battle has been in the first place. All she knows is that multiple fractions have been fighting for control over Teyvat and that several beings who have the ability to destroy entire nations have been involved. She knows that the defeat of one of those beings annihilated the entire sky—a sky that was apparently a veil of some sort. And she knows that Neuvillette has been fighting to protect Fontaine.

 

"Navia."

 

"Oh, Clorinde." Navia sighs in relief. "Do you have any idea what's going on?"

 

"I think... the battle is over. It doesn't look like we're in immediate danger but–"

 

"But something is wrong."

 

"Yes. We need to find Neuvillette. He might be injured. Or–" Clorinde bites the inside of her cheek. "I think I felt a flicker of his power north of the city."

 

"Alright." Navia attemps to muster a small smile. "We'll start from there."

 

Parts of the city walls are collapsed so it only takes a few minutes to reach the shore on the northeast. Clorinde suggests they split up and Navia swallows down the bile in her throat. The damage is not as extensive as she would expect, but what remained of the Callas line now lays in ruin.

 

"Navia..." When Clorinde's voice comes from behind the fallen parts of the aquabus line, Navia freezes in her tracks. The shock—is it shock? Fear?—in Clorinde's tone makes her blood run cold. "Navia. I found him."

 

She doesn't even register her body moving, but suddenly she's at Clorinde's side and–

 

There is so much blood. Why is there so much blood?

 

Navia thinks that a sound leaves her, but she can't be sure. Neuvillette is on the ground, his body in a supine position and surrounded by a pool of blood. His left leg has been severed right below the knee and his remaining limbs are bent at unnatural angles. White hair is now covered with patches of red, almost blending in with the rest of his skin.

 

When Navia risks a look at his face, her stomach drops to her feet. She has seen corpses, before. And yet somehow, this is worse. Neuvillette's eyes are open and unseeing, his cheeks ashen; there is blood coming out of his nose, mouth and ears. And his– his lips are blue.

 

"He's not breathing," Clorinde says without turning to her, and hurries to tear off whatever remains of the clothes covering his chest, looking for any sign of life. "He has no pulse either, but I need to make sure... it might– it might be faint."

 

Navia drops to her knees and uses her own clothes to stem the bleeding in his leg by tightly wrapping a piece of her skirt around his left thigh—an attempt at a makeshift tourniquet. A sharp intake of breath from Clorinde shifts her attention and she looks up to Neuvillette's now bare chest. It looks so wrong. It is a mess of red and purple and black, with pieces of bone peeking through his skin, and there is blood bubbling around a large tear below his right collarbone. His abdomen seems to be in a similar condition and Navia swears that its shape looks entirely wrong. "Clorinde... we have to–"

 

"We can't do this to him, Navia." Clorinde isn't moving– why isn't she doing something?

 

"What?"

 

"Even if he could somehow survive these injuries, we don't know how long he has been without oxygen. And his spine is probably damaged beyond repair. Not to mention the extent of his internal injuries–"

 

"What are you saying?" Navia's voice is cold.

 

"I'm saying that he's in agony, Navia!" Clorinde snaps, her voice trembling. "It's not fair to him. To try and bring him back like th–"

 

"Shut up, Clorinde!" Who is speaking– surely this can't be her own voice– "Just shut up. I will... try to resuscitate him. Move."

 

"Navia–" She doesn't hear the rest, instead shoving her away and positioning her palms in the middle of Neuvillette's chest.

 

Navia has done this once before, ten years ago. There was a young boy who drowned while swimming near Poisson. Her teenage arms shook with effort as she pulled him out of the water and she knew that there was no one else around to help. The sound of the boy's ribs cracking under her hands still haunts her nightmares, but she had saved him. She had saved him, and so her own comfort was a small price to pay; she had vowed, back then, to be prepared for any such situation and to tune out any sound that could distract her from what she had to do.

 

But nothing like this happens now. Her hands find no resistance and sink into Neuvillette's chest cavity with a squelching noise that twists her stomach into knots. There is no crunching of bones breaking—there are no bones left to break. It is a sickening thought, but it makes it easier to access his heart. More blood gushes out of Neuvillette's mouth with every compression of his chest, but Navia doesn't stop.

 

Clorinde shifts next to her and Navia watches from the corner of her vision as she kneels beside Neuvillette's head, pinching his nose shut and gently tilting his chin, then pushing air into his mouth. Blood bubbles from the hole where Neuvillette's right lung must be and Navia stops for a short moment to shove more cloth into it. "Do it again."

 

Another blow of air, and this time Navia can feel a slight movement of Neuvillette's chest—it's moving the wrong way, falling instead of rising, but at least oxygen seems to make it to his lungs. A good sign. If it hasn't been too long– and if she manages to– "Come on... please..."

 

"There is a lot of blood in his airway, but we can't turn him to the side." Clorinde mutters a curse and then inhales sharply. "Navia, keep doing what you're doing. Stop every few seconds and push some air into his mouth." She rises to her feet. "There is a medical team nearby. I'll be right back."

 

"Clorinde–"

 

"Keep going. You're doing well."

 

Navia wants to cry. Maybe she already is. But she doesn't stop. She can't. "Please..." Is it raining? Why are her clothes wet? "Neuvillette..." How ironic, that water and blood feel the same if one is not looking.

 

She keeps repeating the movements, almost robotically, as though watching the scene from an outsider perspective. Time loses meaning—how can she think that? Time is the most crucial thing in this situation—but soon there are hands pulling her away. What? No, stop! I have to–

 

"Navia, that's enough." Clorinde? "The medical team is here. They will take care of him." Huh?

 

Black spots dance around her vision as she is pulled back and multiple silhouettes take her place. They're saying something, but she can't–

 

"...intubate him..."

 

"...need to..."

 

"...in shock..."

 

"...blood in..."

 

The ringing in Navia's ears intensifies. What is–

 

She registers the sound of retching from her right and she turns her head. "Clorinde?"

 

"I don't– I'm just–" Clorinde empties the remaining contents of her stomach on the grass. "Ah..." Navia walks over to her and holds her hair just as she vomits once again. Even after everything that used to be in her stomach now lays on the ground, she keeps dry heaving.

 

"It's alright, Clorinde." No it isn't. What happens now? Did she make a mistake? If– if Neuvillette survives, will he hate her?

 

"Navia?"

 

If he survives, will he be in so much pain that he wishes he hadn't? Was Clorinde right? Her own selfishness–

 

"Navia."

 

A sharp gasp leaves her. "Ah, sorry. I'm okay."

 

"You spaced out for a long time. You weren't responding to me." A long time? How long was– There is a moment of panic as Navia tries to get back on her feet but Clorinde settles a hand on her cheek. "They took him to the hospital. And they left quickly, so I think... they must think he has a chance, at least."

 

"Mm." Navia can't trust her words right now.

 

"You can rest for a while."

 

But she has to know first, so she asks, "Clorinde? Do you think I was wrong?" Her voice comes out as a choked whisper.

 

Clorinde understands. "I don't know. No one knows yet," she replies. "But I think– but if Neuvillette is still holding on with those injuries, he must want to live, I'm sure."

 

"But I was the one who–"

 

"Don't. Thinking about it won't change anything."

 

"Yeah." Navia takes a shaky breath and wills her hands to stop shaking. "We need to go back to the city. The Spina di Rosula is probably waiting for further instructions– I need to–"

 

"We'll do that. Just– we can rest for a minute, I think. To pull ourselves together, if anything."

 

"Alright. Yeah. Alright."

Notes:

Maybe he could have avoided fall damage by plunging. But alas😔

Chapter 12: A Sea Of Tears

Notes:

I spent an awfully long time trying to figure out how medically advanced Fontaine would be. But then I was like 'they have movies, cameras, an underwater metal fortress that makes robot soldiers, and a research lab in floating water. Fuck it. I'm sure they'd be pretty medically advanced.'

The battle officially ended twenty hours ago. That was also when Neuvillette was taken for emergency surgery, and there have been no news since. Dealing with clean-up operations and panicked citizens is not easy, but it is a welcome distraction from the hospital's uneasy atmosphere. Now, sick of almost every sitting position the human body can offer, Wriothesley is sitting on the floor of the waiting room with his head leaned on a chair behind him. Opposite of him, Furina is half asleep, sprawled across Navia's lap, with the both of them taking up all four chairs on that side. It is Clorinde's turn to be out in the city.

 

The first to enter the waiting room is Sigewinne. Wriothesley gets up so quickly he bumps his knee on the side of the table next to him. He looks at Sigewinne, but her own look is something he wishes to forget. Because there is nothing. Her eyes seem detached, the dark shadows under them only highlighting the empty gaze, and her mouth is set in a firm line.

 

He is almost afraid to ask. Navia sits in silence, unmoving so as to not wake Furina; if the news are bad, then they should find a way to break them gently to her. If that is even possible.

 

"We are finished with the surgery. The first one at least," announces Sigewinne, her voice flat, as if delivering a weather report. "More of his injuries needed to be adressed, but Monsieur Neuvillette couldn't handle more strain, so we only dealt with the worst of the damage. He flatlined four times on the operating table and even now we haven't been able to stabilize him. We can't tell how much of the damage could be permanent, we don't– we don't even know– we don't–"

 

"Sigewinne..."

 

Her breathing quickens and Wriothesley can make out tremors running through her body. "We... are still giving him blood transfusions and– and blood keeps oozing out of his body faster than we can–"

 

"Sigewinne, please... stop," Wriothesley pleads, kneeling to be on eye level with her. "It's okay. What matters for now is that he's alive. Everything else will come later." That's all the nurse needs to hear before her legs buckle and she starts hyperventilating in Wriothesley's arms.

 

Sounds of sobbing are what Furina awakens to and she is overcome with panic, because she instantly bolts to her feet. "No..."

 

But Navia grabs her arm before she can spiral. "Furina, no! He's alive!"

 

"Then why..."

 

"Sigewinne is simply processing... the emotions of the past twenty hours. But she's not– Neuvillette is alive."

 

"Are you telling the truth?"

 

"She wouldn't lie about this, Furina," Wriothesley states. "Neuvillette is not fine, by any means, but he's hanging in there."

 

"Okay." Furina collapses back into the seat. "Okay."

 

For a few long minutes, no one speaks. Then, a doctor enters the room. She introduces herself as Doctor Margot , the hospital's head surgeon. Wriothesley doesn't particularly care for the details. But she is the one who urges Sigewinne to get some sleep and reassures her that two other nurses will fill in her position, something he is very grateful for.

 

"I will do my best to explain the worst of Monsieur Neuvillette's injuries before I continue into the next steps," the surgeon says. "First of all, the deprivation of oxygen and multiple skull fractures have damaged his brain, but fortunately to a way lesser extent than we would expect. His spine, however, is critically damaged. More than half of his vertebrae are fractured, with one of the fragments puncturing his left kidney and another partially tearing his spinal cord. Due to spinal shock, we cannot discern whether the effects of this will be permanent."

 

Fuck. This really doesn't sound good. Wriothesley doesn't have any medical knowledge, but he knows that the head and spine are the most important parts of someone's body.

 

"His entire ribcage is crushed, as well as his sternum, leading to a severe case of bilateral hemopneumothorax—that is, both of his lungs were partially collapsed and the space around them filled up with blood and air. We dealt with this by inflating his lungs and draining his chest cavity, but he will need assisted ventilation for a while."

 

Wriothesley's mind is reeling. How many ribs are there? At least twenty-something. He has broken three of them before, and it was quite frankly the worst pain he has ever felt. Breathing took a huge amount of effort.

 

"His abdomen has also sustained serious damage, as his liver, spleen and stomach ruptured. Further surgeries will be needed, which will include fixation of the shattered parts of his pelvis and possibly the removal of his left kidney. The same will go for his left leg, as it has been amputated below the knee and must be operated on."

 

Damn it. Please. That's enough.

 

"As for his right leg, there is a compound fracture of his femur and multiple smaller fractures in the lower parts. His right arm is also severely damaged, with the worst of it being the bones in his wrist. Only his left arm seems to be in relatively good condition, though there is a deep laceration all the way from his shoulder to right below his elbow, which was also dislocated."

 

Margot visibly swallows and then her voice gets a little quieter. "It is particularly worrying that his body simultaneously went into two different types of shock. Hypovolemic shock from the blood loss and neurogenic shock from the spinal injury. As a result, his blood pressure plummeted and there wasn't enough blood reaching his organs. We are doing the best we can, but it is the main reason we have been unable to stabilize his vitals."

 

Wriothesley doesn't understand a lot of these terms. But he understands enough that he has to ask, "What are his chances?"

 

A moment of silence passes as Margot puts her hands in the pockets of her white coat. "Low. Very much so. But we don't know how his body will react to treatment and how much damage it can heal on its own. Injuries this severe would be fatal for a human. That said, considering he has already made it this far, there is still a chance."

 

A touch on Wriothesley's left shoulder makes him flinch. Huh? When did Clorinde get here? "We should sit down," is all she says. And it is only then that he realizes how weak his legs feel at this moment.

 

Surprisingly, it is Furina that speaks next. But her voice is hesitant. "Can we... see him?"

 

"Not yet. He will be put in a medically induced coma, so the anesthesiologist needs to work out the specifics of his sedation. But I believe you will be allowed to visit him within two hours."

 

Wriothesley runs a hand over his face, the void that used to be his right eye now pulsating with a deep ache. The bandage across his face feels more stifling than ever. He wants to tear into it, hard enough to reach skin and tear away some of that too. Instead, he tries to focus on the nervous tapping of his foot. He bites the inside of his mouth and clenches his jaw.

 

 

---

 

 

When Furina steps into the hospital room, her senses are instantly overwhelmed; the lights are too bright, too white, too cold. The room smells of antiseptic and a myriad of different medications, along with an underlying scent of metal. A beeping noise... no... two? Three? She isn't sure. There are many overlapping beeping sounds. And a rhythmic hissing noise accompanied by a steady whoosh of air.

 

Closing the door without turning around, Furina stares at the opposite wall of the room, coming face to face with a large window. For a few minutes, her gaze remains steady; half absent and half looking outside the window. Another minute passes. If she ignores everything else, maybe things will work out. If she concentrates hard enough, maybe this will not be real. The hydro archon was not real. Her role in the last five hundred years was not real. Why can't the present situation be the same way?

 

Blinking rapidly and stiffling a sob, she turns to her left, where the rest of the room stretches. A blue couch, two chairs, a small table, then a large machine, then– She makes a choked sound and presses a hand over her mouth.

 

Neuvillette lies there, the head of his bed slightly elevated. Layers of blankets cover most of his body—the doctors said something about possible hypothermia from the shock—and Furina couldn't be more thankful for that, because she can barely handle seeing the parts that are visible. A stiff collar holds his neck in place and bandages are wrapped around his head. There is a large breathing tube in his throat, another tube in his nose, three more tubes and two wires in the upper part of his chest; all connected to different machines and drips and– Furina thinks she's going to throw up.

 

She walks closer, steps slow and almost silent—she wouldn't wish to disturb his sleep, after all. A voice in her head laughs. Shut up, shut up, shut up.

 

Dropping to her knees beside the bed, Furina extends a hand, only to drop it right away. Finding Neuvillette's hand amidst the blankets without lifting them would be a near impossible task, but even if it wasn't, Furina's carelessness could hurt him further. So she settles on simply observing the steady rise and fall of his chest.

 

"You silly overgrown lizard. I can't believe you did this." She tries to ignore how pale his skin is, how it's blending in with the white sheets and his white hair, how– "You promised me. I will be very mad at you if you break your promise."

 

Furina tries to take a few deep breaths, tries to will her voice to stop shaking. "You say that you never lie, so don't–"

 

When her lips tremble and her vision blurs, she can only whisper brokenly, "Please... don't leave me." She's the human one between the two of them. She's supposed to be the first who goes. So why...

 

Because of them, Neuvillette is on the verge of death. If only Furina were more powerful... if only she could– No. No, she can't think this way. Neuvillette would never want revenge for his sake. He wouldn't want another to put their lives on the line for him. Not when he gave everything to protect those lives.

 

But then why? Why did no one help him? Why did all of the so called archons and gods stand on the sidelines? No matter whose side they were on, if they cared for Teyvat as much as they say, shouldn't they have tried to protect it? So why? Why did Neuvillette have to do this all alone? Why is he the one lying there, unconscious and unable to breathe?

 

Furina has felt helplessness before. When she was attacked by Arlecchino, when her act was revealed, when Fontaine flooded, when she could only sit on her high seat as everyone was about to be dissolved. And this right now, feels every bit as horrible as those times did. She couldn't do anything then and she can't do anything now. Why can't she ever protect the things she cares about?

 

Tears stream down her face and she can taste the saltiness on her tongue. Furina wants to scream. She wants to scream and shout and curse everything; but most of all herself.

 

There is only one thing she can do now. That is, to return to her previous duties. At the very least, until Neuvillette recovers. She knows that Clorinde, Navia and Wriothesley will most likely take up the restorations by themselves and will surely disagree with her coming back. But they cannot refuse her. Not when she's by far the most experienced and knowledgeable among them when it comes to this role.

 

Of course, the people would disagree as well. And Furina can't blame them. She lied to them, deceived them, almost let all of them dissolve in the flood. Even if most of them can tolerate her current job and public appearances, they would be opposed to Furina returning to her previous position. But she has no plans to do so. And she has no plans of making it public, either. She will simply be... helping, until Neuvillette can come back. The citizens don't need to know of her involvement. No, it would only cause more trouble for the others who will be doing their best to take care of things.

 

That said, Navia, Clorinde and Wriothesley are all currently ranked higher than she is. If they wanted to, they could simply say that she has no right as a citizen to take up such duties, no matter who she was before. But they won't. And Furina feels like a horrible person taking advantage of not only the privilege of her previous role, but also the kindness of the ones she considers friends. She is despicable. A liar, a fraud, and now an awful, manipulative person. But what else can she do? What can she do?

 

If anyone had asked before, the mere thought of returning would send Furina's mind spiraling. She would say that she would never—could never—go back to that position. She couldn't even stand to be in the Palais Mermonia, because the building itself would bring back horrible memories. Every time she thought about those five centuries of torture, a pit would open where her stomach is supposed to be.

 

But as she stares at Neuvillette's broken, failing body, she can't bring herself to care anymore. The thought of governing a nation makes her feel no fear, none of the loneliness she had become so used to. A cold acceptance is all there is. She will not go back to pretending to be a godess, of course not; the facade was revealed long ago. All Furina will have to do now is take care of some matters and guide the others through solving the nation's issues. She will not have to play a role that puts the entire country on the line.

 

But even if she had to do it all again, she would relive the past five centuries again and again if it meant Neuvillette would be okay. But she can't even do that. She can't do anything. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

Notes:

Furina would HATE going back to her previous duties. But what she would hate more than that, is Neuvillette dying. With her mind stuck on that possibility, I feel like she would seek some comfort in the things she already knows. I'm purposely putting her through that and making her return to some of her old duties, because I think this is one of the ONLY situations that would make her do it.
(The tension between me and the trauma I put everyone through)

Chapter 13: Haunted

Notes:

Thank you to everyone who left kudos and comments<3
This story is playing like a movie in my head but I don't know if my words are doing the ideas justice.

Neuvillette is trapped. He doesn't know when or how he got here. He doesn't know where here is. But he is sure that he cannot escape.

 

He is restrained to a wall, with his hands tied above his lead and his toes barely touching the ice-cold ground. A gust of frigid air draws an involuntary shiver. Needles of frost cut into his skin and he winces, attempting to break loose.

 

But to no avail. Neuvillette cannot move. An effort to call upon his elemental power is met with a terrifying void, an absolute nothingness. His blood freezes; from the fear or the cold, he doesn't know. What did they do to me?

 

Where is everyone else? Are they safe? If someone managed to capture him and take away his power, surely they must be unbelievably strong. What do they want?

 

A wave of panic overtakes him and then there are hands around his throat. No one is in front of him but there are hands around his throat; they are squeezing his airway and preventing him from inhaling. No... they keep coming and going—one second gripping his throat and choking him and the next retreating without sound. Breathing is impossible, because whenever he needs to breath in, the hands wrap themselves tightly around his throat. Only to move away, leaving him gasping for air, and then squeezing again.

 

Who is this? What do they want?

 

The invisible hands slowly morph into a shapeless black shadow. More shadows enter his field of vision, blurry and seemingly aimless. They pass through walls, through the ceiling, they change directions and run quickly only to return to their original spots in the holding cell—is this a holding cell?

 

More ice needles prickle his skin and he shivers. Neuvillette can't seem to remember how he got here. The last thing he remembers is– what is the last thing he remembers? The prophecy... no, that was months ago. Or was it years? A battle... yes, there was a battle. Or maybe there wasn't. But no... there must have been, because he is being held captive. The inky black hands dig deeper into his skin– Now they're sinking into his trachea with no resistance much like the shadows in the walls– Stop. I need this. Stop. The hands remain embedded in his throat.

 

It is so cold. Another chill runs through him as the cold wind hits his face. His extremities tingle unpleasantly.

 

In a split second, the environment changes. Frigid air is replaced by a wave of stifling heat. Neuvillette feels his mouth go dry and his eyes burn. Sweat forms on his forehead and trickles down his face, leaving a salty taste in his mouth. The dark silhouette forces its hands even deeper in his body, now alight with a fire that is scorching his blood vessels.

 

He has always hated the heat. Now he wishes it could be cold once more.

 

Something rises from Neuvillette's stomach and makes its way to his throat, but the hands force it back down. The shadows that surround him seem to multiply as they move erratically. More sweat rolls down his body and his vision swims.

 

Neuvillette hears the echo of a soft murmur, a distant voice that he can't make out the words of; it sounds as if he is underwater. But he isn't. Is he? No, he is boiling, he is on fire. He couldn't be on fire if he was underwater.

 

The hands squeeze once more and hot blood drips to the ground—is it his own? It must be. But no. It is plastered all over the walls, trailing down in rivers of crimson; all leading to the floor in front of him. It is too much to be his own blood. Was the blood always here? What is here, anyway? And why is it so hot?

 

 

---

 

 

"Can I use my cryo vision to cool him down? Or is that too risky?"

 

Sigewinne pauses with her hands in a bucket of cold water. "I don't know." She wrings a towel and places it on Neuvillette's forehead, gently pressing on his closed eyelids. "It wouldn't hurt to try, I think. As long as you do it slowly." Then she mutters, "It's not like this is helping."

 

Wriothesley steps away from his place near the window and sits on Sigewinne's opposite side. "Do you know why this is happening?"

 

"It's– He can't regulate his body temperature because of the damage to his nervous system. High fever and hypothermia are dangerous enough by themselves but these rapid changes..."

 

"I know." Wriothesley notices how Sigewinne's voice cracks. "It will be fine, Sigewinne." The words sound empty even to himself and he hates it—hates how useless he feels.

 

A monitor goes off again, just like every few minutes. Something is always wrong; blood pressure too low, heartbeat too quick, core temperature too high. His own words feel even more ironic.

 

The door opens and someone enters the room—it is Lambert, one of the oldest nurses in the intensive care unit. He doesn't seem too alarmed. He rarely does, and Wriothesley is grateful for it.

 

"Mister Lambert?" Sigewinne chokes out. "Monsieur Neuvillette's oxygen stats are getting worse."

 

"Hm." His voice is calm as he proceeds to check the monitors. "I'll have to increase the settings on his ventilator. But if there is no improvement within three hours, today's surgery might need to be postponed. I will let the surgeons know."

 

"Alright." Wriothesley tries to match the nurse's tone in an attempt to reassure Sigewinne. "Is there anything we can do?"

 

"Speaking to him may have a positive effect. There have been multiple cases of patients hearing bits and pieces of conversation."

 

"So if I tell him to get his ass back here, he might listen?"

 

Sigewinne gasps. "Your Grace!" She narrows her eyes at Wriothesley, but her mouth is curved in a small smile.

 

"Sorry, sorry."

 

 

---

 

 

The first week passes in a blur of operating rooms, medical examinations and close calls. Clorinde and Wriothesley manage to keep Fontaine afloat by taking on some of Neuvillette's duties. The rebuilding process is overseen by the Spina di Rosula, while trials are assigned to other judges. The hardest part is, unsurprisingly, the paperwork.

 

"I bring two more stacks for you. We need these by tomorrow morning. Also, reread the document about the food supplies; I think you made a mistake there."

 

"Fuck you too, Clorinde." Wriothesley groans. "Why do I have to be the one doing most of the paperwork anyway?"

 

"Because," Clorinde responds, "you have been in charge of a prison for years. You're supposed to be experienced in reading and signing documents."

 

"I hate you so much."

 

"Good." Clorinde crosses her arms and leans on the wall behind her. "By the way, Furina wants to help too. Said that she has centuries of experience with this, so she can return to take on some work to make it easier for us. Temporarily. What do you think about this?"

 

"Ah, well, I can't say that I like it. She's only now starting to live her own life," Wriothesley says. "But to be honest, we need all the help we can get." He sighs in frustration.

 

"That's right. My first reaction was to try and convince her otherwise, but..."

 

"Maybe she can just... uh... give us some pointers? She doesn't have to return to her old duties."

 

"I don't think she was planning to. Only if–" Clorinde stops herself with a sharp intake of breath. "Nevermind. She wasn't planning to."

 

"That's good. That's... yeah."

 

 

---

 

 

"And then I said 'we should add one more tablespoon of sugar' but it still wasn't sweet enough. Then I went to add some honey instead of more sugar, but she stopped me! Can you believe it?"

 

There is no answer. Of course there isn't. Navia isn't expecting any. But if she keeps talking, maybe eventually she'll annoy him back to consciousness.

 

Neuvillette's eyes are half open, but they're not looking at anything in particular. He's unresponsive to everything apart from pain stimuli. But the doctors said it is part of the process of slowly reducing the sedation. They said it will be at least a few more days until he is conscious enough to communicate. Navia wants to believe this. She wants to believe that this is how it's supposed to be, that he will be alright. Sigewinne says so, too. And she wouldn't lie—not about this.

 

"The macarons turned out well, but I still think some sweetness would have added to the taste. I'll try the honey next time. I'll bring you some too. Even though I know you hate them." Navia laughs softly. "You were trying to be so polite about it too, even if your face told a different story. Furina said you just dislike anything sweet or dry, but I will keep feeding you my creations until I find something you like."

 

Navia runs her hands through Neuvillette's hair, gently untangling the knots. "Sedene and Kiara will be here later to braid your hair; Sedene said it won't do for you to wake up with unkempt hair. I agree with her."

 

She lets out a sigh. "You know, we've been trying to avoid saying anything about your condition. But because of how sad all the melusines have been looking lately, I think a lot of people believe you're already dead. They're too scared to actually ask. And no one has come out to confirm or deny it. You'd probably say that the citizens deserve to know the truth, but... that would only bring more questions, which we're hoping to avoid. Not to mention that it could put you in more danger." But saying it out loud only brings more doubt—is that really the best course of action?

 

Navia lifts her head when the door opens. A melusine walks in; Navia doesn't think she's seen her before. "Hi there. I'm Navia. We haven't met, have we?"

 

"No, I don't think so. I normally live in Merusea Village. I'm Serene," she says quietly as she sits next to Navia. "How is Monsieur Neuvillette?"

 

"Still heavily sedated, but... a bit better, I think. He seems more stable."

 

"That's what Sigewinne says, too." Serene sighs. "My sisters want to visit him, but I told some of them that it's better to wait for now. The truth is... I don't want them to see him like this. Melusines, especially the ones who don't live among humans, perceive such things differently—a few of my sisters have asked if I knew where Carole has been lately. Carole died hundreds of years ago, but they don't really understand what it means. So I just–" She takes a calming breath. "Do you think it's wrong of me, Miss Navia?"

 

Navia hums in thought. "I don't see it as wrong to advice someone on what you believe is best for them. And it is their choice to listen to you about it, which means that they trust you. Were they angry at you?"

 

"No, but... some were upset. They don't understand why I would say this when our sisters who work in the city, like Sedene and Menthe, have already been here a few times."

 

"Actually, Sedene and Kiara will be here soon. Maybe it would help to speak to them about it."

 

"Oh! Yes, alright. I think I'll do that." Serene leans on the bed, resting her head next to Neuvillette's hand. "Thank you, Miss Navia."

 

 

---

 

 

Ever since he was a child, Freminet has loved the sea. When he feels overwhelmed, upset or tired, he always escapes to the nearest body of water, diving gear on hand.

 

Today was one such day. Freminet and his siblings have been tasked with protecting the south part of Fontaine—the area around Romaritime Harbor—from the rising abyssal threats. Whatever happened on the day the sky fell has left Teyvat vulnerable and under constant attacks from the Abyss. Today, the small islands on the left of Fontaine's waterfalls were attacked by rifthounds and it was up to the children of the Hearth to deal with them.

 

They did, of course. They always have. But Freminet is now exhausted, abyssal corrosion sticking on his skin and creating an uncomfortable burning feeling. He needs to wash it all away. He needs to go swimming, to lose himself in the watery depths.

 

One look at Freminet's face makes his intentions known to Lyney and Lynette, and they leave him to his devices. He puts on his helmet and dives.

 

The relief is instant. The water hugs his skin and everything else fades away. Freminet has never been one for socializing and being around others, but he enjoys observing sea creatures and swimming among them.

 

He dives deeper and watches as three blubberbeasts sing to each other. Slightly to his left, five crabs move on a line across the seafloor. Freminet enjoys being alone; he likes the peace and serenity that solitude offers.

 

But... he's not alone here, is he? When he turns further to the left, a large creature enters his field of vision. Freminet remains frozen in place as the creature locks eyes with him and moves closer. It is massive. He doesn't think he has ever seen a creature of this size. Oh, but he has.

 

Freminet takes a moment to think. This must be the creature that showed up on that day in the Opera Epiclese and spoke to Monsieur Neuvillette. People talked about it, but with how many things happened on that day, it wasn't the main focus of the papers. He hopes it doesn't have any malicious intent, because Freminet would never be able to come out of this confrontation alive.

 

"Hello, little human."

 

It's even larger than he initially thought. He really hopes it's friendly. "Um. Hi."

 

"You shouldn't be here. It's dangerous."

 

"Oh. Um. My siblings and I were fighting some abyssal creatures earlier and I wanted to go for a swim afterwards. It calms me down. But... I can leave now."

 

"Ah, I see! You must be one of those vision bearers? Is that how you're able to speak?"

 

"Yeah. The... uh... the waters in Fontaine allow vision bearers to breathe and speak underwater. They're special, I think."

 

The creature hums and stares intently at Freminet. "Don't be afraid of me. I bear no ill will towards humans. In fact, I'm also here to deal with the Abyss."

 

"Oh! Then, you are the same... um, creature that talked to Monsieur Neuvillette that day at the Opera."

 

"That's right." The creature laughs. "You may call me Scylla."

 

"Um... I'm Freminet."

 

Scylla stares at him some more. He is then covered in a blue light and replaced by a more human-like form. "You seemed uncomfortable with my true form. I understand I must look scary from a human perspective."

 

Freminet doesn't know how to tell Scylla that every type of social interaction makes him uncomfortable and that he feels just as scared around humans. "Oh. Your human body looks... nice."

 

Scylla chuckles. "Why, thank you. Neuvillette made it for me."

 

Before Freminet can ask anything, Scylla continues, "Another abyssal rift has appeared. You may come with me, if you wish."

 

"Ah, yes! But I need to tell my siblings first. They'll want to come too, because we need to make a detailed report afterwards."

 

"I shall wait for you here, then."

 

But Freminet is feeling bold today. And his siblings have been pulling some particularly annoying pranks lately. He might as well. "Actually, you can come, if you want. I'll... um... introduce you to them."

 

"Is that so? Haha, humans are quite interesting."

 

If Freminet was more confident in his social skills, he would've asked Scylla to take on his previous form so that he may scare his siblings even more. But he's not, so this will have to do.

Notes:

Scylla is so present in this fic that I keep forgetting just how little we know about him in canon. I love him but I actually love the him I have made up in my mind because in reality we know close to nothing lol

Chapter 14: Turbulence

Notes:

This arc of the fic is like a meal.
The meal being a large fishbone served with broken glass and a side of nails and bolts.

When Sigewinne opens the door, she comes face to face with Furina, who is pacing around the room while reciting lines from what must be her troupe's next performance.

 

"Good morning, Sigewinne," Clorinde says from her place on the right side of Neuvillette's bed. "We can leave if you need to examine him."

 

"It's alright. No need to leave. But you may need to step back a little, Miss Clorinde." Sigewinne presses some buttons connected to one of the drips. "I need to wake Monsieur Neuvillette to assess his cognitive state."

 

"Wake him? Is that... okay?" Furina asks hesitantly, "Won't he be in pain?"

 

"No. I turned off the sedatives to allow him to open his eyes so I can check his consciousness level, but he's still heavily medicated."

 

"That's... good. Is it better for him to see us? Or should we just sit on the couch?"

 

"For now you should probably not get too close," Sigewinne says. "I don't want him to be overwhelmed."

 

It is twenty minutes before the heart monitor speeds up and Neuvillette's eyebrows furrow. "Monsieur Neuvillette? Can you open your eyes?" the nurse asks gently. Two eyes pry open slightly, before squeezing shut again. Sigewinne waits for Neuvillette to get used to the light as he slowly opens his eyes. They are glazed over and focused on the ceiling, but they are no longer unseeing.

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette? Can you look at me?" Sigewinne cups his cheek. "Please don't try to turn your head." His eyes shift towards her and he blinks tiredly. "Yes, that's good!"

 

When he attempts to move his mouth to talk to her, no sound comes out. "Please don't be alarmed. You will be unable to speak for a while because there is a tube down your throat that is helping you breathe. But you're safe. Everyone is safe. So there's no need to worry." That seems to be enough because soon Neuvillette's eyes are beginning to close again.

 

"I'm sorry for keeping you from resting, but I need to ask one more question." Neuvillette looks at her as he struggles to remain awake. "I will squeeze your left hand. Please blink once if you can feel it or twice if you can't." When she does, he simply continues looking at her. She waits for a few moments. "Did you feel it?" Two blinks answer her.

 

"That's alright." Sigewinne has been expecting that. "You may go back to sleep now, Monsieur Neuvillette." He finally allows his eyes to close and his heartbeat evens out seconds later.

 

She takes a long moment to examine him, her melusine eyesight quickly assessing his condition.

 

"Is it a bad sign? That he couldn't feel your hand?" Clorinde asks.

 

"Not really. It would've been a good sign if he could feel it, but the fact that he couldn't doesn't mean anything for now. We've been expecting it." Sigewinne turns around to face Clorinde and Furina. "He was responding to me, so that's very good."

 

"Then," Furina asks carefully, "why are you crying?"

 

What? I'm crying?

 

Sigewinne lifts a hand and feels tears running down her cheeks. "Oh... I didn't realize– I don't know why..."

 

"It's alright, Sigewinne." Clorinde approaches her and puts a hand on her shoulder. "This can't be easy for you. But you're doing really well."

 

Sigewinne nods with a weak sniffle. "Thank you," she whispers. "I think I need some air. Call me if anything–"

 

"Yes, yes. We will, don't worry," Furina interrupts. "Go take a break."

 

"Okay." With one last look at Neuvillette, she gets up and heads for the door. "I'll... be back soon."

 

 

---

 

 

For the next three days, Neuvillette slips in and out of consciousness, each time being slightly more awake. But the increasing awareness comes with a newfound agitation, his eyes sluggishly darting around the room as he struggles to understand where he is and what is happening.

 

On the evening of the third day, his body burns with fever, flushed cheeks creating a sickly contrast on his pale face. The buzz in Neuvillette's heavily medicated mind only intensifies with the rise of his core temperature.

 

Feeling in his arms slowly returns, and it is the only thing that keeps him grounded to reality. Most of the bones in his right wrist and forearm were crushed, so they remain wrapped in splints and bandages, but his left hand starts to regain some movement. When Navia gives a soft squeeze, he weakly squeezes back.

 

Neuvillette wishes he could drink some water. No matter how many times the nurses dampen the inside of his mouth with a sponge or a wet cloth, it is always terribly dry. The rising fever only succeeds in making it worse.

 

"I'm sorry," Navia tells him. "I know you must be feeling terrible. But the tube will come out soon. Just wait a little bit longer." He hopes she's right. Neuvillette isn't sure how much more of this he can take.

 

Someone else walks into the room, and Neuvillette is once again reminded that he can't turn his head to see for himself.

 

"Hello," Wriothesley says. "It's just me."

 

"Hey, Wriothesley." Navia gives Neuvillette's hand a final squeeze. "I have some things to take care of, so I'll be going now. I'll be back tomorrow." She smiles at him and Neuvillette wishes he could do the same, but he settles on simply squeezing her hand back.

 

As soon as Navia leaves, Wriothesley sits beside the bed and brings a hand to Neuvillette's forehead. He activates his cryo vision and Neuvillette visibly relaxes, eyes shutting and tension leaving his face. He would have sighed in relief if he could.

 

"Feels good?" Wriothesley coats his other hand in ice and lets it hover above Neuvillette's body, not close enough to touch, but still cooling him down. "You know, Sigewinne went to the Fortress today for a few hours and she said it's functioning just fine without me. I left Jurieu, Lourvine and one of my assistants in charge. If they're doing so well I might just leave it to them and move to the surface."

 

When Neuvillette's eyes open and stare at him questioningly, Wriothesley barks out a laugh. "Just joking, of course. I quite like that big old lump of metal."

 

He keeps talking but Neuvillette can't quite make out the words, as he finds his consciousness slipping away. He falls asleep soon after.

 

Hours pass—days? Neuvillette isn't sure—but he is awoken by something. He attempts to figure out what it was that woke him but gets his answer when a moment later pain shoots through his body. Every breath that is forced into his lungs expands his chest fully and leaves behind a searing pain that radiates across his torso. Yet, the constant agony tearing into his spine is somehow much worse. Neuvillette shivers and squeezes his eyelids tightly.

 

"Neuvillette? What's wrong?" Furina? Neuvillette wants to tell her, to plead for her to do something, but he can't speak. His left hand claws at the bedsheets and his right hand can only press down onto the pillow that it's propped on. "...ette ... please... me?... it's...." The words blend together and he thinks he must have lost consciousness then, because there are now multiple muffled voices around him.

 

When the pain becomes a little less unbearable, Neuvillette tries to focus on the voices in the room.

 

"What do you mean?" Furina asks.

 

"His body is very resistant to the pain medications, but it is still affected negatively by them," one of the nurses reply. "We increased the dosage now, but this amount is too much for his organs. We will need to find a different way."

 

"What... you're just going to let him be in agony?"

 

"The only other solution is to give him neuromuscular blockers. But considering the severity of his injuries, we will need to paralyze his entire body. That is not something we do for awake patients. And sedating him again could have long term effects."

 

"Then... what else is there?" Furina's voice is quieter as she steps closer and sits beside Neuvillette.

 

"We will try switching medications." The nurse says from his other side. "We will do a combination that doesn't put such heavy load on his organs and has less long term side effects. But it will increase the possibility of delirium and there is also no guarantee that his body will not adjust to it soon and need an increase in the dosage again."

 

"Is this the only option?"

 

"As far as I know, yes. But I will need to ask the anesthesiologist and get the opinion of nurse Sigewinne in case she knows something more about the way his body functions."

 

"Alright. The–" Furina then registers Neuvillette's half opened eyes. "Oh! Are you feeling a bit better now?" He softly taps her hand once. "Good, good. You may go back to sleep if you're tired."

 

When is he not tired? These days, Neuvillette can't seem to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. He's always sleeping. He hates it. And he hates how much he wants it.

 

He becomes increasingly aware of the foreign object in his throat, his muscles contracting when the tube scratches his trachea. He can't quite suppress a cough and it comes out a weak, raspy sound that only succeeds in worsening the irritation in his throat. He coughs again, and again, and a wave of vertigo hits him.

 

"It's okay, it's okay." Furina rests a hand on the crown of his head. The room spins and he coughs again.

 

As he closes his eyes, he hates how good it feels to let his mind slip away.

 

 

---

 

 

"The leylines are too corrupted. Purifying them will not be easy."

 

"I already know this, Buer. And much better than you do."

 

"Of course. This is your domain, after all. Thank you for agreeing to help."

 

"I did not 'agree to help'. I simply wish to purify the ecosystem my children live in."

 

"Even so. What happened to the leylines was devastating for Teyvat's elemental energies. I'm glad we share a common goal."

 

 

---

 

 

"Sedene, can you stay here with Monsieur Neuvillette for a bit?" Sigewinne asks. "I need to talk to the other nurses."

 

"Hm?" Sedene blinks out of her reverie. "Yes, but... is it something bad?"

 

"No, not at all. I just think that Monsieur Neuvillette needs to start breathing by himself." Sigewinne rises and puts a thoughtful hand on her chin. "They probably haven't considered extubation yet due to the damage to his chest and to the part of his spine that controls breathing, but it looks like he's healing. He's not synchronizing very well with the ventilator, which means that his body wants to breathe independently."

 

"And that's... good, right?"

 

"It is. But we'll need to make some adjustments to his treatment if the doctor and the nurses agree. We need to make sure that he's not in so much discomfort that he has to take shallow breaths. If he's in too much pain to breathe properly, the extubation won't be successful."

 

"Hm, alright, you know best," Sedene says. Sigewinne smiles in response. "I'll stay here. Go do what you need to do."

 

Once Sigewinne leaves the room, Sedene glances at Neuvillette's still too pale face. She looks at the tubes and wires that are keeping him alive. Oddly enough, she finds the rhythmic sound of the ventilator comforting. It is a reminder that he's still here.

 

Sedene doesn't have any medical knowledge, but she understands that Neuvillette could still die. Even if he starts breathing by himself, there are many complications that could render him unstable again. She really doesn't want to consider this possibility. But she has seen the looks of the doctors.

 

Of course, the doctors don't know him as well as she does. She's sure that if there is even a slight chance that Neuvillette will make it, then he will. Yet she can't help but think, what if he doesn't? What will she do? What will happen to her sisters?

 

No, what a silly thought. This is not about her or her sisters. Neuvillette has always been so selfless and kind to them. Always taken great care of them and made sure they were alright. Maybe there is a way they can do the same for him. If anything can help him get better, then Sedene will do whatever it takes to make it happen. It's the least he deserves.

 

This never should have happened. Monsieur Neuvillette is very kind, so why was the world not kind to him? Why is he dying? It's so unfair, this world. The same one that made Carole take her own life. It's so very cruel. Sedene doesn't hate it, but deep down, she wishes that she did.

 

She is startled by a weak cough, but when she looks up, Neuvillette's eyes remain closed. Is he awake? She hopes not. That sounded rather painful. She runs a hand across his forearm, stopping below his elbow—a catheter is placed there and a bandage covers the rest of his arm—and it is the only part of his body that slightly resembles normal skin.

 

"Please hold on, Monsieur Neuvillette. Please... don't die."

 

When Sigewinne returns, she is not alone. Sedene recognizes Doctor Margot, the head surgeon during all of Neuvillette's surgeries. There are two others with her, but Sedene doesn't think she's seen them before. If she has, she can't recall. But she gets up and moves away from the bed to give them space.

 

"Sedene, do you want to go to the cafeteria and get something to eat?" Sigewinne asks.

 

"But... what if–"

 

Sigewinne stares in disapproval. "You haven't had anything aside from coffee today, have you? You need to eat."

 

"You haven't eaten either."

 

"And that's why I'm suggesting we go to the cafeteria."

 

Sedene sighs. "Fine. But only for a short while."

 

"Of course. We'll be back soon."

Notes:

Nahida and Apep cameo ;) They will show up in the main story soon I promise

Chapter 15: Staying Afloat

Notes:

Lyney with Wriothesley is like the cat that has beef with one person and hisses for no reason, then reluctantly lets it go, but still has the 'you're on thin fucking ice' look

"This is good tea."

 

"Why, thank you," Wriothesley replies. "I'm glad someone besides me appreciates tea."

 

"I am always in tea drinking mode," Lynette says, taking another sip.

 

"This is tragic," Clorinde mutters under her breath. "There's two of them now."

 

How infuriating, Lyney thinks. This man risked his life and lost an eye for Freminet and now he's also getting along with Lynette, because of tea? He can't hate him anymore without it looking like a petty grudge. How did he even manage to get both Lynette and Freminet to like him? Yes, very infuriating.

 

As if reading his thoughts, Wriothesley asks, "By the way, where is your little brother? From the report, it seems like he's the one who was the most involved in the fights that happened."

 

"Did you actually expect Freminet to show up? That guy dislikes social interactions even more than I do." Clorinde picks up a pen and circles the locations the siblings fought at. "I wouldn't be surprised if he wrote the majority of the report just so he could have equal contribution without coming here."

 

That's exactly what he did. Not that Lyney would say it out loud.

 

"That's correct." But Lynette would, it seems. If only the social skills were equally distributed among them, Lyney thinks. He sighs.

 

"I have to ask," even though Lyney isn't really expecting an answer, "where is Monsieur Neuvillette? Is he–"

 

"He's alive," Wriothesley cuts in. "Well... barely. He's badly hurt so he'll be out of commission for some time."

 

"And that's why you two have been trying to deal with the fallout."

 

"Not just us," Clorinde says, "but yes."

 

Oh. Well, things make more sense now. "Is Lady Furina also involved? I saw her talking to some Gardes outside the Palais the other day and thought it was strange, since she abdicated her position."

 

"So much for being discreet." Wriothesley rolls his eyes.

 

"This is Furina we're talking about," Clorinde points out.

 

"Yeah well, she was discreet enough to fool everyone for five hundred years. Apparently she already forgot how to do it."

 

Clorinde hums. "Maybe that's a good thing. If the actual Furina can't be discreet, we'll just have to deal with everything that may come out of it."

 

Lyney now has a lot more information than he was expecting. Do Clorinde and Wriothesley trust him and Lynette that much? If so, his grumpiness feels even more ridiculous.

 

He can sense Lynette side-eyeing him, but he's going to pretend that he doesn't.

 

"What's next?" Lynette asks.

 

Wriothesley pours her and himself another cup of tea. "I'm pretty sure all we can do for now is deal with the Abyss. Celestia—or whatever the fuck is up there now—doesn't look like an imminent threat. Even if it was, it's not like we could handle it."

 

"You're right." And oh, how Lyney hates to admit that this guy is right. "Is that what the other nations are doing as well? We only have some information from Snezhnaya."

 

"From what we know, yes. Everyone is focused on keeping the Abyss at bay. Even the achons don't seem to be doing anything in particular," Clorinde says.

 

Wriothesley groans. "But we don't know if this is because they can't or because they're planning something else." Then he mumbles, "I hate not knowing things."

 

Lyney does too. He grits his teeth. Very infuriating indeed. But as he stares at the eyepatch on Wriothesley's right eye, he finds that he has nothing to direct his anger to anymore.

 

 

---

 

 

It is two weeks after Neuvillette was initially rushed to the hospital when he can finally breathe with the help of a simple oxygen mask. Furina wasn't present when the tube was removed, but she imagines that it was an unpleasant experience, because Neuvillette slept for twelve hours afterwards.

 

Now, Furina tries to ignore how disoriented he seems when his drowsy eyes find her own. She tries not to pay too much attention to how she has to remind him to breathe every so often, as if he needs to manually force his body to do so. Maybe he does. But he looks less on the verge of death than before, so Furina tries to ignore these things.

 

She wonders if he remembers what happened and why he's here. It might be better if he doesn't. At least for now. Being unable to do anything will only worry him more.

 

Furina looks up when the door opens. Navia steps in, but she remains at the doorstep and only becons Furina closer.

 

Navia whispers, "Hey, can we step out for a minute? I need to tell you something and I don't think Neuvillette should know yet." She notices Furina's hesitation. "It won't take long. And if anything happens, we'll know from the monitors."

 

"Alright." Furina doesn't think there's really a need for it, because Neuvillette is too out of it to pick up on their whispers, but it's better to be safe.

 

When Navia closes the door behind her and they're out of earshot, she starts, "The Raiden Shogun is dead."

 

"What..."

 

"It looks like the attacks from the Abyss are mostly a distraction. Whoever is in Celestia now wants to take out anyone who could be a threat. They targeted the Raiden Shogun specifically." Navia bites her lip. "I don't know how Inazuma is faring, but the Tri-Commision is probably handling things."

 

Furina feels like an awful person. The news about the Shogun's death spark no negative feelings from her. She's not happy about her death per se, but a part of her is saying that she got what she deserved. Her only regret is that she never had the chance to confront her, to ask her why she did nothing but stand on the sidelines while Neuvillette was fighting alone. To shout at her for her cowardice, to shake her around until she gave a good enough reason for why she didn't help him. Maybe to have Mademoiselle Crabaletta take off an ear, maybe both. Alas, she is dead now. And Furina is horrible for not feeling anything bad about it.

 

"That's a lot to take in." But it's not hard for Furina to put two and two together. "So you're saying..."

 

"Yes. If they learn that Neuvillette is still alive, they will target him. We can't let this happen. We're not going to lie to the public, but keeping his condition a secret is safer for now. Fontainian citizens will be tense and there will surely be all shorts of rumors, but... we can't risk it."

 

"Okay. Yes. Okay." Furina takes a deep breath. "Do Clorinde and Wriothesley know?"

 

"They must've heard by now. The news reached Fontaine early in the morning. But don't worry, I'll speak to them."

 

"No, I can do it. You should focus on the reconstruction efforts," Furina says. "We have to figure out our next steps."

 

How did things turn out this way?

 

Furina is sure that Navia isn't happy about her choice to be involved in political matters again, but the situation calls for it. She can't just sit by and do nothing.

 

"Alright."

 

 

---

 

 

Neuvillette is certain he is losing his mind. He doesn't know where he is. He doesn't understand what is happening. He recognizes most of the people that come and go, but nothing makes sense. Everything is a confusing, convoluted mess.

 

He can't tell what's real and what's not anymore. The sounds all blend together and shadows move from the corners of his vision. Everything is too much, but at the same time too little. His senses are overwhelmed, but they're also so muted that he struggles to make sense of anything.

 

And he's tired. Why is he so tired? Every time he wakes up, he simply wishes to go back to sleep. He sleeps and sleeps and sleeps, but it's never enough. He's so tired.

 

Furina sits next to him. She's saying something, Neuvillette thinks. Probably not to him, because he knows he's not replying. He doesn't know if he can, but he doesn't have the energy to attempt to find out.

 

Furina leaves, then she comes back. How long has it been? Is it the next day already? But she was only gone for a few moments, right? Did he fall asleep again? He's losing his mind.

 

Shadows loom over him. Neuvillette is sure that he sees movement behind Furina and– something is there– she needs to leave–

 

The shadows morph into strange creatures, dark and threatening. They're not creatures of the Abyss, Neuvillette doesn't think so, but they seem dangerous. Full of teeth and claws and long limbs and– Furina is there–

 

Neuvillette has to do something. He needs to protect her, but his body isn't following his commands. It takes all of his energy just to move his left arm, but he has to–

 

He tries to speak. To warn Furina, to tell her to leave, because if he can't do anything he can at least distract the enemies until she is safe. But nothing comes out– he's so useless– he can't–

 

What is he if he can't protect the important things? What is he if he can't protect the people he cares about?

 

And they're getting closer and he needs–

 

"...hn..."

 

Furina looks at him worriedly. No– Behind you– "Hey, hey, it's alright." No... nothing is alright– Why isn't she moving? "I'm here, Neuvillette." But that's the problem, you shouldn't be– you should–

 

"Hey, you need to breathe." What? But there's more important– I need to– I need–

 

Furina takes his face in her hands. "Neuvillette. It's alright." He takes a breath. But the shadows– the creatures are creeping closer–

 

"Just look at me, okay?" He tries to... he really does, but it's so exhausting. He can't focus, his eyelids are too heavy. But he can't fall asleep now, he has to–

 

What does he have to do? What was he doing? Where is he?

 

"Neuvillette, it's okay. You can sleep." Ah. Sleep, yes. It sounds tempting.

 

But he's sure there was something he had to– "It's okay." Furina draws closer and presses a light kiss on his forehead. Ah, maybe she's right. Neuvillette finally allows his eyes to close. The last thing he hears is Furina's shaky inhale and then his consciousness fades.

 

 

---

 

 

"Spare me your criticism."

 

"But mother... don't you realize what you're doing? Are you planning to wipe out everything connected to the old order? Why... did you send me out into this world if you were going to destroy it?"

 

"Enough," Rhinedottir snaps. "I wished for you to see the world and find your own place in it, like I have. My place is to rule—to make sure that the strongest of humans can live up to their potential."

 

"But innocent lives are–"

 

"Sacrifices are necessary for the greater good, Albedo," she interrupts. "Did you like this world better when it was ruled over by a creature that was not even awake? When humans were forced into submission and a stationary state of living?"

 

"I'm aware that civilizations have been wiped out simply for being too... advanced. I'm aware that my very existence would be a sin in the Heavenly Principles' eyes. But what you're doing is just as–"

 

"I do not care for your opinion, Albedo. You are free to oppose me, if you wish it. But I have made my choices."

 

"I see." Albedo pauses and averts his eyes. "The Hexenzirkel protect Mondstadt. Do they not disagree with you letting the Abyss run rampant?"

 

"I am myself before I am anything else. Being a member of the Hexenzirkel is not unlike my other titles. One of the five Sinners, the Shade of Life, a member of the Hexenzirkel—I am not tied to any of these. I don't seek anyone's agreement."

 

"Of course," Albedo mutters, "that's how you have always been." He raises his head to look her in the eyes. "But I have found my place in Mondstadt. I will fight for its continued survival."

 

"Good."

 

"And... I will fight by Barbatos' side."

 

"So be it. I'm sure you know the possible consequences of siding with someone I view as a threat."

Notes:

Another chapter of me torturing Neuvillette

Yes, I offscreened Raiden. She was never gonna appear in the actual fic because I don't know how to write her so I thought 'hey, why not raise the stakes even more' and this happened. Sorry guys (it has a purpose though trust)

Chapter 16: To Live Is To Fight

Notes:

I really enjoy writing everyone bonding over the shit that is going down:)

Steel clashes on steel. Clorinde easily parries the thrust aimed for her neck and swings her own blade. Her opponent side steps quickly and counters with a series of slashes. 

 

Clorinde dodges the first two blows and blocks the third with the hilt of her sword. Balancing her body weight on her right leg, she aims a left kick at her opponent's ribs. 

 

Clorinde had to learn how to fight when she was still learning how to walk. She spent her childhood with a weapon in hand, always fighting, always surviving. She found ways to use her surroundings to her advantage—every tree, every river, every rock can be used to lead her to victory. A ray of sunlight, a blade of grass, a grain of sand; everything can be a weapon. Her own body is the most important weapon she possesses. Naturally, she taught herself how to fight with it. 

 

"I thought we were sparring with swords." Her opponent takes two steps backwards, clutching her right side and breathing heavily. 

 

"We are."

 

"You kicked me." 

 

"I did." 

 

"I understand," Lynette says. "I don't usually train this way with my siblings, but a real fight works differently." 

 

"You are a strong fighter, Lynette. You have fought battles of your own. But you still limit yourself." 

 

"I wasn't fully in fighting mode." Lynette positions her sword in front of her body. "Again?" 

 

Clorinde smiles. "Again." 

 

 

---

 

 

 Neuvillette only regains a semblance of lucidity on his third week at the hospital. What grounds him to the present time is bits and pieces of conversation around him. He understands where he is and figures he must have been injured somehow. 

 

His mind slowly fills in the gaps in his memories of the past months, but the most recent weeks are still a blank canvas. Worry gnaws at him and he wonders what became of the rest of Fontaine if someone managed to hurt him so badly. But his friends and family seem to be well, so things must be alright. 

 

He wants to ask, but his mouth doesn't seem to cooperate. That is fine. If something was wrong, they would have told him, surely. 

 

Even without opening his eyes, Neuvillette is dizzy and his stomach churns with nausea. His body aches and tingles, and he senses all kinds of foreign substances in his bones and in his bloodstream. Pins and needles shoot through his nerves and travel all the way to his head. Even though he has no feeling in his lower body, it still twitches uncomfortably. 

 

The sharp pain that tears through his torso comes and goes, but the discomfort remains constant. He clenches his jaw as sweat rolls down his face and into his pillow. 

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette?" 

 

Prying his eyelids open, he is met with Aeval's face. Shame rushes through him when he realizes that the melusines have to see him in such a state. He averts his gaze in guilt, instead opting to look at the ceiling light. But she must be worried, so he needs to reassure her that he is... that he will be alright. 

 

"... ah... hn..." Nothing intelligible comes out and his attempt to speak turns into a coughing fit that makes his lungs burn. 

 

"Ah! Monsieur Neuvillette! What's wrong?" 

 

"Aeval, stop panicking!" Elphane enters his field of vision, looking calmer than her sister. She softly massages his diaphragm and the pain eases. 

 

Neuvillette takes a moment to catch his breath after the coughing has ceased. "...m'so...rry," it's barely a whisper, but it still scrapes his throat uncomfortably. 

 

"It's alright. Please don't be sorry." 

 

But I am. I should be. How can he not be sorry for causing so much trouble for everyone around him? 

 

A strange fog envelops his mind then, and he finds his thoughts reduced to a dark void. His body turns numb and his ears start ringing. The room swims dangerously and his surroundings blur. 

 

He can now hear Elphane panicking too, her voice shaky and scared next to him. Why is she panicking? Nothing is... Nothing is...

 

A guttural moan escapes him and his eyes roll into his head. More voices join Elphane and Aeval, rising in volume before fading altogether. 

 

For a while, he feels as though he's submerged in water, but without the familiarity and comfort of his element. Instead, it is like a barrier between himself and the outside world, as everything blends together and slips out of his grasp. There is something in the distance, but he can't reach it. 

 

His senses return slowly. A deep ache encompasses his entire body and he can't suppress a groan of pain. 

 

"...hear me?" 

 

Sigewinne's worried face greets him upon opening his eyes. Why is he suddenly so tired? Why is his body so sore?

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette? Are you with me?" 

 

"... hm." He doesn't think this sounded affirming enough, but Sigewinne smiles at him nonetheless. 

 

"That's good. You just had a seizure, but everything is fine now. Are you in any pain?" 

 

Yes. But he doesn't answer. Instead, his gaze finds Elphane and Aeval, who are both standing behind Sigewinne, crying silently. 

 

This is my fault. I caused this. I made them cry. It's all my fault. 

 

"Please don't look so guilty, Monsieur. This is not your fault." 

 

But it is. I caused it. 

 

"We'll have to run some tests to see whether it was caused by your injuries or by any of the medications. But it's nothing you could control. It isn't your fault." 

 

Neuvillette only presses his eyes shut and his left hand grips the bedsheets. He doesn't want to meet their eyes. He hates that they have to see him in such a state. How shameful. He is supposed to take care of them, not the other way around.

 

He doesn't even know how he came to be here in the first place. He doesn't remember what happened. He is reduced to this state and he can't even recall why. Why is he like this? Why does he hurt everyone around him? 

 

Neuvillette exhales shakily. 

 

"He's bleeding from his abdomen," a new voice says. Ah, but it's not new—he has heard this voice before. It must be one of the nurses. "Some of the stitches need to be redone." 

 

Aeval gasps and attemps to move closer, but Sigewinne blocks her view. "The wound dressings around his chest and abdomen need to be changed, in any case," the melusine nurse says. "We might as well do it now. But... Aeval and Elphane..." 

 

"I'll get them out of here." 

 

"Your Grace? When did you get here?" 

 

"Just now," Wriothesley says. "Those two probably shouldn't see this, right? We can wait outside." 

 

"But we–" Elphane starts. 

 

"We'll only be getting in the way. Come on." 

 

Wriothesley takes Aeval's hand to lead her out of the room. "No! Let me go!" 

 

"I'm sorry," Wriothesley says. "There's nothing we can do here. Let the professionals take care of him." 

 

Aeval whines, but allows him to pull her away. As they move towards the door, Sigewinne mouths a 'thank you' before turning to Neuvillette. "We will need to redo some of your stitches, is that okay?" 

 

He's too tired to squeeze her hand in affirmation, so he can only reply with a blink. Hopefully she understands. 

 

"We will numb that area beforehand, but you might feel some pain from being moved when we change the bandages. We can't increase the dose of analgesics more. I'm sorry." 

 

That's fine. It's what he deserves. It's only fair, for making Aeval and Elphane cry. For worrying everyone and causing them trouble. 

 

The next minutes are a blur. The smell of antiseptic and medical salves invades his senses, even through the oxygen mask. Neuvillette feels himself being moved around and he registers his own pathetic whimpers of pain, yet he can't find it in himself to be embarrassed. The stitches pull and he winces in discomfort. 

 

Distantly, he hears Sigewinne's voice—it is right next to his ear but he can't make out her words. Even so, it is comforting. He hangs uselessly as his body is maneuvered carefully around, and his stomach protests with every movement. 

 

He attempts to look at what is being done to him—anything to ground himself to reality, but Sigewinne grabs his cheek before he can glance down. She gazes at him sadly, but he's not sure why. It doesn't matter. He's too exhausted to dwell on it. 

 

Another pitiful sound escapes him before he can stop it and he feels a soft squeeze on his left hand. The wave of shame that overcomes him is quickly snuffed out by the sheer exhaustion that only seems to be getting worse. 

 

Neuvillette lies in a half awake state, the only thing binding his consciousness being the occasional stabs of pain. Being set back down seems to be even worse, because as soon as his back touches the sheets, a wave of agony runs through his body and he has to bite back a scream. His back tries to arch instinctively, but is held back by something solid—metal? An uncomfortable tingling pain reaches his limbs and he feels his hands tremble. The last sensation before he's out cold is that of his hair being gently moved away from his face. 

 

 

---

 

 

Furina's coffee is bitter. She sits at Cafè Lutece, a cup of coffee in her hands, and she wonders if she forgot to specify the amount of sugar she wanted. She probably did. It doesn't matter, anyway. Her favorite desserts taste just as bitter these days. She takes a sip. 

 

"Miss Furina?" She blinks. Furina hopes it's not one of her fans. She doesn't have it in her to sign autographs and take photos. To smile and pretend that everything is fine.

 

She looks up. "Oh. Lyney." 

 

"Hello there," he says with his usual smile. "Long day?" 

 

"You could say that." Furina sets her cup on the table. "Don't just stand there, take a seat." She gestures to the empty seat on her opposite side. 

 

"Don't mind if I do." Lyney chuckles and pulls the chair out. His movements, his body language, they're all so familiar. It reminds Furina of herself. They're both painfully similar in that sense. The forced enthusiasm, the false bravado, the attempt to take up as much space as possible because anything else would be deemed a failure. Furina knows all too well. 

 

"I was performing for some kids in the area. They were all very enthusiastic about my magic tricks." Lyney smiles, more softly this time. "Kids are very resilient. They went through a flood and a sky-shattering catastrophe in less than a year. They adjust quickly." 

 

"Of course." She knows it. And she's very glad. She wants to say more, but she lacks the energy for it. Lyney seems to understand. Even though he can still put on a performance, he must sense that Furina's own has run dry. 

 

A shadow falls overhead. "What do we have here? The fraud archon having coffee with one of my children?" Furina flinches. Arlecchino. 

 

"Ah, hello, Father. Please don't talk about Miss Furina like that. She–" 

 

"No, it's fine. She's right." Strangely enough, she feels no fear. She used to be terrified of Arlecchino after she attacked her. But now, even though Furina is still significantly weaker, she's not scared to look her in the eyes. 

 

Arlecchino can tell that something is different. "Oh?" She keeps staring at Furina, as if sizing her up. "Well, it is unimportant. I'm here to speak to Lyney." 

 

Is this her way of asking her to leave? Furina was here first. If they need to talk, they can go elsewhere. 

 

Arlecchino seems to understand Furina's train of thought and smirks in amusement. "How interesting. But it is no secret, considering you're also currently involved in national matters, are you not?" 

 

Furina narrows her eyes and turns to Lyney. "Did you tell her?" 

 

"No, but you did," Arlecchino says. I can't believe I fell for that, Furina scolds herself. 

 

"In any case... Lyney," Arlecchino continues, "I'll be leaving for Snezhnaya. I'd like you to take care of matters in the House of the Hearth." 

 

"Did something happen?" 

 

"There is something I must take care of. The Jester has become blinded by his thirst for revenge. He wished to take down the Heavenly Principles, but he hates the Sinner that has taken over just as much. He has absorbed abyssal powers in order to be a match for her." 

 

"Father... you want to kill him?" 

 

"Yes. He's become a nuisance. He will destroy everything before he's strong enough to face Gold." 

 

Why would Arlecchino let Furina know of her plans? Of course, they're both aware that she won't interfere in any way, but the Knave is not the type of person to be so open. Furina wonders if there's a specific reason she wanted her to be here. There must be. But what does Furina have to do with matters of the Fatui? 

 

Or maybe Furina's presence just doesn't matter to her at all. Maybe she would have said the same things, regardless of whether she was here or not. Maybe she wants to taunt her, to show her just how unimportant she finds her. But Furina doesn't care about it anymore. She has other worries. Let Arlecchino taunt her all she wants. 

Notes:

Oh boy, Gold really did a number on Neuvillette.

The Fatui are falling apart. About Pierro, this is actually a theory I have. I think if the Tsaritsa's plan fails (and it probably will considering we are the ones playing the game) he would do anything to take down the ones he wants revenge on, even absorb abyssal powers himself. And even though Arlecchino is a morally grey character, she doesn't like destruction and most of all she wants to protect the kids of the Hearth.
Also, Furina is canonically scared of her BUT the trauma I'm putting her through could change some of her natural reactions. It's sad to think about, but it's a good way to showcase the effects of Neuvillette's near-death on everyone close to him.

Chapter 17: Fragments

Notes:

Thank you to everyone who has been leaving comments<3
This fic started out as a weird combination of some of my maladaptive daydreaming scenarios that somehow created a plot lol.

Clorinde is reading over reports and signing documents when she notices Neuvillette stir. She sets the papers down and instead opens a book while waiting for him to fully awaken. It's not that she wishes to hide things from him, but he shouldn't be focusing on work right now. She's sure that sooner or later, he will ask. 

 

She is on her second page when Neuvillette mumbles something that Clorinde can't quite make sense of. "Sorry? What did you say?" 

 

He appears confused for a moment, his eyes darting to the ceiling and then back to her, as if he forgot what he was trying to say. Clorinde hates the helpless look on his face. "It's alright. You can tell me later." 

 

He narrows his eyes in thought and Clorinde waits patiently while he searches for something. The monitors keep beeping steadily. 

 

"Clo...rinde?"

 

"Yes?" 

 

"Why..." He takes a deep breath, wincing when his chest protests with the movement. "My..." He tries again, "I can't... feel my– my powers." His breathing quickens, fogging the oxygen mask. "The water... why..." 

 

Clorinde grabs his hand before he can panic. "That's normal. But your powers are slowly coming back. Just yesterday, it rained when you were in pain." It had not rained in Fontaine for three weeks. No clouds, only the vastness of the newly revealed sky. Everyone was relieved when it started pouring yesterday. "Your powers will return. It might take some time, but they will." 

 

He seems less agitated, but the concern doesn't fade. "But... I don't– I don't remember..." 

 

Ah. Clorinde understands now. If he doesn't remember the incident, then he doesn't know why he's like this. The injuries are one thing, but the absence of elemental power must be terrifying to feel. She's not sure if there's any way to comfort him when such a big part of himself is missing. 

 

"That's alright. You hit your head, so this might be why there are lapses in your memory. But you mentioned that you trust me. So trust me when I say that everything is fine." Well, as fine as things can be while every nation is under constant attacks and the sky has shattered. But Fontaine is standing. And they're all alive. 

 

Neuvillette's head lolls to the side, the absence of the neck collar now allowing him to move it freely. He sighs in relief. Clorinde hopes her words were enough.

 

"How are you feeling?" 

 

He exhales slowly. "Tired." He takes another moment to think. "Not... whole. I feel– I feel... fragmented." 

 

Clorinde grimaces and averts her eyes. For him to say something like this... he must be feeling even worse than she thought. Or maybe it's the effects of the drugs flowing through his system. 

 

She's never been good with words, but Neuvillette isn't either. She doubts he wants her awkward attempts at comfort. Both of them are people of action. "If there is anything you need of me, say so. I'll be here." 

 

"Thank you," Neuvillette manages. It's only a whisper, but Clorinde hears it. Yet his hands keep trembling. Before she can ask how she can help, his shoulders twitch and Neuvillette hisses in pain. 

 

Ah, the doctors did say that this would happen. They mentioned that even though he has regained feeling in the upper half of his body, there will be some hyperactivity in his nervous system while the spinal shock resolves. She wonders if it was the cause of the seizure too. 

 

They also said that... when he regains feeling in his lower body, the same thing might happen. But it is too early for this. His lower spine took the most damage, so it's not unexpected. 

 

Clorinde squeezes his hand. 

 

This period of his nerves trying to heal could last weeks. And if it is as intense as it looks now, it will slow his healing considerably. Not only that, but it will also worsen his pain. 

 

She hates that she can't do anything. When Neuvillette saved her life, he healed her so effortlessly, so painlessly. Meanwhile Clorinde can only watch as he suffers, as he breaks apart. 

 

She's not used to this. Up until now, every time she was unable to so something, she would practice again and again until she couldn't get it wrong. But now... everything is wrong and there is nothing she can do. No amount of training Clorinde does can lessen his pain.

 

She can only rest a hand on his left shoulder in a pathetic attempt at comfort while his body trembles and he groans every time his chest and abdomen are jostled. "I'm sorry." Clorinde hates this. 

 

 

---

 

 

"Hello, Mister Wriothesley." 

 

"Ah, Freminet." Wriothesley beckons him to sit. "Can you help me with something? I've heard you're good with mechanical stuff." 

 

"Um, I have made things before, but..." 

 

"You will be rewarded, of course. It's an issue with my gauntlets. I have some knowledge of mechanics myself, but this seems outside my skill set." 

 

"Oh, I couldn't possibly ask for money. You... saved my life and took a hit for me. I would be glad to help... if I can." 

 

Freminet awkwardly averts his gaze at Wriothesley's stare. "Kid, I didn't save you so you could owe me." He sighs. "I'm only asking you because I've heard you know your stuff. And because you might be able to figure out what's wrong, since you were there when my gauntlets got jammed. You fix something for me, I pay you. That's how things go." 

 

But Freminet insists. "I can't accept payment, Mister Wriothesley. But... I'd like to help." 

 

"You're one stubborn guy," Wriothesley says. Freminet flushes. "Fine, if you won't work for money then you can at least accept a meal? And tea, of course." 

 

"Um... alright." 

 

Wriothesley opens the box of tools he brought from the Fortress. He then pulls out his metal gauntlets and allows Freminet to examine them. "So... how does it look?" 

 

"I think... I know what's wrong." He unconsciously scratches his hair with the back of the screwdriver as he thinks. "And... there is a part of it that's missing. It probably broke off during the battle." 

 

"Huh. I can go to the Fortress to check if I can find a replacement," Wriothesley says. 

 

"Um, no... I think I can make it work without it. But channeling your elemental energy through it might feel a little different. Is that okay?" 

 

"Sure, if it works that's fine with me. By the way, where did you learn how to do this? Just a hobby of yours?" Wriothesley takes the opportunity to ask while Freminet works. 

 

"I enjoy creating and fixing things, so I taught myself how." Freminet's voice comes out much clearer now that he's not focused on speaking and making eye contact. His hands move with practiced ease as he rummages through the tool box. "Years ago, I made a mechanical penguin. His name is Pers." He's too absorbed to feel any of the embarrassment that would normally be present. 

 

"That's impressive. You're a natural at this." Wriothesley watches with interest as Freminet takes apart the broken parts of the gauntlets. "Thanks for the help, kid." 

 

 

---

 

 

"Miss Furina?" 

 

"Hm?" 

 

"You can go home if you want to," Sedene says. "I'll stay with Monsieur Neuvillette." 

 

"I don't want to." The couch here is pretty comfortable. Not that Furina cares much about that. She would've slept on the floor if the couch wasn't an option. 

 

"But it's late." 

 

"It's fine, Sedene. I'll spend the night here. So don't worry about me." 

 

It's what Furina has been doing lately. She spends most of the day dealing with government matters and then she comes here. She just can't stand the thought of leaving Neuvillette alone in the hospital. Well, he won't be alone, but what if she comes the next day and he's– No. Shut up. 

 

So she hasn't been to her house for days. She hasn't cleaned it for weeks. It must be covered in layers of dust by now. 

 

"I can go and clean it up for you, Miss Furina."

 

Did I say the last part out loud? Ah, but there's no way she would– "There's no need! I'm sure you have better things to do Sedene." 

 

At Sedene's downcast look, Furina realizes that– Oh. She doesn't. She must be desperate for something to do right now. To take her mind off of things, if anything. Furina has to make things better. "Actually, I'll take you up on that offer. My house is probably a mess though, I have to warn you. Clothes laying around and everything." 

 

"That's alright. Thank you, Miss Furina." Oh, Sedene. Furina bites her lip to stop it from trembling. 

 

"I'll give you my keys. I appreciate the help, Sedene." 

 

"It's no trouble," Sedene reassures with a grateful look on her face. 

 

For a while, they sit in silence. When Neuvillette wakes up, Furina tells him about the coffee she had with Lyney yesterday. She omits the parts related to Arlecchino. She tells him about how Navia stepped on the end of her skirt the other day and almost fell down a flight of stairs. She tells him about Wriothesley's newest unsuccessful attempt at cooking. Neuvillette's eyes seem a little distant, as if he's looking through her, but Furina keeps talking nonetheless. 

 

When Neuvillette blinks rapidly and his body begins to twitch, Furina can only stroke his hair and hold his hand.

 

She senses Sedene's agitation and turns to look at her. "Sedene?" There's no reply. The melusine keeps staring at Neuvillette worryingly. What could she be seeing? Is there something wrong with Neuvillette? The doctors said this is normal, right? "Sedene? What's wrong?" 

 

"I think... I think Monsieur Neuvillette is having a seizure." 

 

"Oh. But... it has happened before, right? And this one doesn't look too bad." 

 

"I don't know... I think– Something is wrong." 

 

"Sedene, what are you seeing? Do I need to call someone?" 

 

Neuvillette's heartbeat quickens and Furina gets up to press the call button without waiting for Sedene's answer. "Neuvillette, hey, hey, what's wrong?" Please. What's wrong? Neuvillette keeps blinking too fast and his eyes remain unfocused. The monitor blares loudly. 

 

"Sedene, what's wrong with him? Why–" 

 

"I don't know! I don't know! I'm–" 

 

Furina doesn't hear the door open, but suddenly she's being told to step back and– What's wrong?

 

Sigewinne injects something into the IV line under Neuvillette's right collarbone. "His heart is arrhythmic. Blood pressure is dropping." 

 

"I'll bring the defibrillator." 

 

What? But he was fine. He was getting better. So why...

 

Sedene trembles and Furina kneels down in front of her, leaning in to hug her. The melusine whines and burries her face in Furina's shoulder. Neither of them can look, but Furina flinches when she hears the sound of Neuvillette's body being shocked with electricity. 

 

At the second shock, Sedene sobs. At the third shock, Furina feels tears running down her own face. 

 

Why? Why? Why is this happening? 

 

The voices around the room quiet down and Furina risks a look behind her. At the same time, Sigewinne approaches them. She looks tired, but relieved. "Monsieur Neuvillette is alright now. We restored his heart to a normal rhythm and gave him medicine to raise his blood pressure. But we'll need to monitor him to make sure it doesn't happen again." 

 

"Sigewinne... what... why did that happen? He was getting better, wasn't he?" 

 

"He was. He is getting better. The seizure he had triggered a heart arrhythmia. Normally it wouldn't have been a medical emergency, but the damage to his central nervous system made it worse." Sigewinne looks down. "He... went into cardiac arrest. Fortunately we were able to intervene early." 

 

"If Sedene hadn't noticed..." If Sedene hadn't noticed, maybe they wouldn't have made it in time. If Sedene wasn't here, maybe Neuvillette wouldn't... 

 

"Sigewinne?" Sedene speaks for the first time in a while. 

 

"Yes?" 

 

"Is..." she swallows, "is Monsieur Neuvillette going to be alright?" 

 

"I... think so." That wasn't a 'yes'. But a small, optimistic voice inside of Furina says that it wasn't a 'no' either. 

 

Later, Furina lies awake on the couch near Neuvillette's bed, listening to his even heartbeat on the monitor. "You idiot. How dare you scare us like this?" she mutters. 

 

Why does this keep happening? Who wants to take Neuvillette away from her?

 

Please... don't die. Please.

 

"Sorry." 

 

At the sound of Neuvillette's voice, Furina gets up from the couch, tripping on the leg of the table when she tries to get to him. 

 

"Hey. Hey, it's alright. Just... don't do it again... please." 

 

"I... shall try." His voice is weak and slurred, but the words are so very him that Furina chuckles, a shaky and wet laugh. Maybe... maybe things are going to be okay. 

Notes:

Neuvillette loves almost dying haha. But as they say, things get worse before they get better:) Next chapter will be the start of the 'better' I swear. The action will be back too... eventually.

Chapter 18: Catharsis

Almost one month after the battle that split the skies, two Fatui harbingers face off amidst the ruins of Snezhnaya's capital city.

 

"What is it you want, Knave?" His voice is tinted with something dark, something corrupted. It echoes loudly, leaving behind the taint of the Abyss.

 

Arlecchino steps closer, heels sinking in the snow. "You know very well what I want," she says in a low voice. "What are you doing? You are losing yourself to the same power you scorn."

 

The blizzard is particularly harsh—more so than it would have been as a natural phenomenon. It blows unrelentlessly, viciously; the effect of the celestial nail powerful enough to pose a threat to every living thing, to freeze everything to the bone.

 

"If I have to become a monster to deal with the likes of them, so be it."

 

"Them?"

 

Pierro scoffs. "The Sinners. The plan was never for one of them to take control. Gold must go down."

 

"You are a fool, Jester. You'd threaten what remains of Teyvat to take revenge for a nation long gone? Even the Abyss Order's plan holds more logic."

 

"This plan will never work." Pierro glares at the remains of Celestia, then back at Arlecchino. "I expected better from a decendant of the Crimson Moon Dynasty."

 

"If you expected me to participate in your foolishness simply because of my ancestors, then you don't know me at all. I have never done anything other than what I believe in."

 

"One of the Sinners seeks to destroy the Crimson Moon Dynasty. What will you do then? If the Moon Hunter, Rerir, comes after you?"

 

"I will deal with him accordingly," Arlecchino states. "But that is irrelevant. It is not the Five Sinners of Khaenri'ah that are currently in power. It is only someone who happens to be one of them."

 

Pierro laughs mockingly. "Even so. With her hunger for power, she will only destroy everything."

 

"Quite ironic of you to speak about hunger for power when you are on the verge of being fully swallowed by abyssal corruption."

 

"Enough! It seems you will never understand. You might as well leave my sight then, Knave."

 

"No, you don't understand. I am not here to have a conversation. I am here to kill you." Arlecchino unseathes her weapon. "My children are part of the Fatui, so the more you lose control, the more in danger they will be. I will end this."

 

"You forget yourself, Knave. I am your superior."

 

"You were ranked above me, yes. But it matters little now. What you have become cannot be called a member of the Fatui." Arlecchino sets her scythe on fire. The air crackles and burns. Sparks roll off of her and she takes a step forward.

 

 

---

 

 

Neuvillette stares at the window on the other side of the room. The head of his bed is raised, so he has a good view of his surroundings. Even with the curtains drawn, the sky looks wrong. Too... red. He's sure it's not dusk yet, because the clock on the wall shows it is midday still. And even if it wasn't, this sky is not the soft orange color of the sunset, but something more intense, more ominous.

 

It must have something to do with the missing pieces of his memory. He tries to dive into his mind, to grasp at anything that would help him unravel what happened, but every attempt ends in failure. It's quite frustrating. Being broken and not even knowing why.

 

Thinking makes his head hurt. Gazing at the discolored sky behind the curtains makes his eyes sting. He feels... strange. Neuvillette doesn't know if the weight on his chest is due to his physical injuries or due to the ever present worry in his mind.

 

He blinks when the door opens and he shifts his eyes away from the window.

 

"Hey. I came by earlier but you were asleep so I went to grab something to eat."

 

"Wriothesley?"

 

"Yeah." He walks over to sit on the couch. It has been moved closer to Neuvillette's bed, but still far enough to not be in the way of the nurses. "Had a nice nap?"

 

Neuvillette takes a moment to think. "I am... better."

 

"That's good. I'm glad. Your horns have regained some color too. They looked almost grey for a while."

 

A beat of silence. "How... ah... how long..." his next words are not entirely intelligible, but Wriothesley understands.

 

"How long you've been here for?" Neuvillette nods. Wriothesley rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward. "How long do you think it's been?"

 

"A few... days?" Neuvillette tries to hide a wince of pain as he speaks. "A... a week?"

 

"A little longer than that. But hey, don't worry about it, Neuvillette. Focus on getting better."

 

"But I... ah... there is– I have work to..."

 

Wriothesley sighs and mumbles something in frustration. "Didn't you ask us to take care of things in the event of your absence?"

 

"I did?"

 

"You did. So don't ask about work. We're handling everything just fine for now. You know I wouldn't lie about this."

 

"I know." Neuvillette exhales a little shakily. "Alright. But if– you must... tell me... if–"

 

"I will tell you, if there's anything you need to know."

 

Neuvillette hums, satisfied with the answer. He already feels tired from the short conversation they had. But he has one final question to ask. "The sky... why..."

 

"What about the sky?"

 

"It looks... wrong."

 

"Ah. About that," Wriothesley says hesitantly. "Did you know that the sky was actually a veil of some sort? That it wasn't real?"

 

Neuvillette knows. But how does Wriothesley know? Humans aren't aware of this. In fact, very few beings in Teyvat know. "Yes. But– what..."

 

"It was... removed, let's say. The sky now is darker no matter the time of day. The sun is still there, but it stopped functioning as before and the outside looks different."

 

Removed? The Heavenly Principles would never willingly remove it. That must mean... they were taken down? By who? And what happened?

 

"Look, it's better for you to remember things on your own time. I'm sure you've already figured out that there was a battle and you got injured. And that it has something to do with how Teyvat looks now. Don't worry, you will remember the rest eventually."

 

Will I? All of this uncertainty is new to him. He feels useless, broken. Not only can he not protect anyone like this, but the people he cares about have to see him in such a state too. Neuvillette hates it. He needs to recover soon. He has caused enough trouble as it is.

 

 

---

 

 

"No! What are you saying? What the fuck are you saying?"

 

"Please, Lord Lyney–"

 

"I am no Lord! What are you talking about?"

 

Freminet enters the base of the House of the Hearth, where Lyney is shouting at an envoy of the Fatui. "Lyney? What's wrong?"

 

"Freminet, hah! You should listen to this. She's saying that Father faced Pierro and they both fell in battle. She's saying that Father died."

 

"What..."

 

"Just ridiculous, right? Such audacity to come here and–"

 

"Lyney, stop!" Freminet rarely raises his voice, but his tone now is so loud it scrapes his vocal chords. He turns to look at the messenger. "Is... is that true?"

 

"I'm afraid so, Mister Freminet. The bodies of both harbingers were–"

 

"Get out!" Lyney shouts. "Just leave! There is no way... no way– you're lying!"

 

Freminet grabs Lyney's arms before he can lash out. "Please... that's enough." His eyes are wet with unshed tears. "Lyney, you said yourself that she was planning to fight Pierro. Maybe–"

 

"Not you too, damn it! I can't listen to more of this nonsense. I'm going to find Lynette. She's going to be more reasonable about this."

 

"Lyney..." Freminet's voice trembles as his brother storms out and heads deeper into the house.

 

"Mister Freminet, I understand that Lord Lyney is upset, but there are procedures he must go through if he wants to finalize his position as the current Knave and–"

 

The following words are lost to Freminet, because he is suddenly plunged in ice-cold water. Or rather, he feels like he is. His limbs freeze in place and his ears ring. Dark spots slowly cover his vision and his chest tightens. He starts shaking– shaking and–

 

"I'm sorry! Can you... um... give us some space? We'll need some time to process it, but Lyney will get in contact soon."

 

"Very well. I will leave the report on the table."

 

As soon as she's out of the door, Freminet keels over. His legs are suddenly unable to support his weight and he drops to his knees. It's getting harder to breathe and cold sweat forms all over his body. His eyes fill with tears and he can't–

 

Father is dead. Father is dead. Father is– Everything is too much and the back of his throat burns. Freminet pulls at his hair and a few strands come loose. Father is dead. His stomach twists into a knot. Father is dead. His mouth goes dry. Father is dead. He's hyperventilating, breaths coming in quick, sharp gasps. His heartbeat echoes in his ears.

 

Father is dead. Lyney is the new Knave. Father is dead.

 

 

---

 

 

Neuvillette knows that Wriothesley is trying to distract him by speaking about the latest book he read—one about the ancient customs of Remuria. He appreciates the thought, he really does, but it's mostly unsuccessful.

 

Canotila visits, and she talks about her own books. Wriothesley listens with interest and enthusiastically agrees when she offers to bring some for him to read. Neuvillette knew about Wriothesley's innate curiosity, but he wasn't aware of his love for books. It's quite fascinating, listening to the both of them speak with such fervor. Unfortunately, Neuvillette is in too much pain to focus on the words themselves. But he does find the noise comforting.

 

The pleasant chatter is interrupted by the sound of the window opening. When the curtains are pulled aside, Neuvillette sees the shade of the current sky for the first time.

 

"Who are you?" Wriothesley rises and pulls his gauntlets out, activating his vision.

 

Someone steps into the room. Canotila gasps and steps in front of the bed. "Go away!"

 

When the temperature of the room drops a few degrees, the new person only laughs and looks at Neuvillette. "Not that I'm not glad to see people being so protective of you, but maybe you should let them know that I mean no harm."

 

"It would have... been more–" Neuvillette pants between the words, "more obvious if you... had used the... door, Scylla."

 

"Hm. Is that so? I just thought it would be faster this way."

 

"Huh?" Wriothesley looks between the two dragons as he lowers his gauntlets. "Did you just say... Scylla?"

 

"That is me, yes."

 

"Like... the Scylla?"

 

"Are there others?"

 

"Probably not. It's just... wow." Wriothesley's eyes are wide. "Aren't you dead?"

 

"In a way."

 

"Huh."

 

"Wriothesley is..." Neuvillette says, "quite fond of... Remurian history."

 

Scylla moves to sit on the couch next to Wriothesley. "Oh?" amusement paints his words. He continues, "You seem to have a lot of human friends, my Lord. I have already met Navia, Furina, and that one lady with the gun. And you say this little human here is an admirer of mine? How interesting."

 

Neuvillette remembers Scylla meeting Navia and Furina, but Clorinde? Did he meet Clorinde recently? If so, it must be among Neuvillette's missing memories.

 

"Oh, so I'm the only one who hasn't met him, I see. Talk about favoritism."

 

"That is not– I wouldn't... wouldn't–"

 

"I'm just joking around, Neuvillette," Wriothesley reassures. Then he addresses Scylla, "So... are you a dragon or just a large vishap?"

 

"I am both."

 

"Huh. I have a lot of questions."

 

"Oh! I have questions, too," Canotila says. Neuvillette did notice that she had been silent for quite some time. He hopes she isn't feeling uncomfortable in Scylla's presence.

 

"I will answer everyone's questions, but I'd like to speak with Neuvillette first. I did come here to see how he's doing."

 

"Right," Wriothesley says. "Canotila, do you like tea?"

 

"I've never had any."

 

Wriothesley gasps dramatically. "That won't do. Come on, we're going to the cafeteria downstairs."

 

Once Neuvillette is alone with Scylla, the vishap prince allows his form to morph into something more draconic. He had forgone his horns and webbed fingers in order to climb into the window without trouble.

 

"How are you feeling?"

 

"Fine."

 

Scylla stares. "Are you forgetting that I am also a dragon of water, like you are? I can tell that you're not fine."

 

"Then... why ask?"

 

Sighing loudly, Scylla gets up from the couch and sits at the edge of the bed, close enough for Neuvillette to pick up on the other's even breathing.

 

"It's alright to not be fine when you're going through something."

 

"Not... for me."

 

"Why not for you?"

 

"Because I'm... different."

 

"Why?"

 

Neuvillette averts his eyes.

 

"Because you're supposed to be strong for everyone else? Because you're meant to understand but never to be understood?"

 

But... I don't...

 

Neuvillette lets out a weak sound, something close to a whine. Scylla allows the sides of their heads to touch—it is a common gesture amongst dragonborn, but it makes Neuvillette's heart ache. A soft drizzle hits the window.

 

"You believe that because you're a dragon born in a human form, you don't belong to either species. But you're the only one who sees it so. Dragons accept you as one of theirs. I know I do. And humans don't see you as an outsider, either. Those you view as friends, view you as one of theirs too." Scylla's chest vibrates with a soft purr. "So why do you do this to yourself?"

 

Why? Why do I...

 

The rain outside intensifies and a clap of thunder echoes in the room. Neuvillette loses the strength to hold up his head. He lets it drop and Scylla guides it to rest on his shoulder. Another vulnerable noise leaves Neuvillette and he's glad that no one else is in the room.

 

While he trembles uncontrollably and his eyes burn, he realizes that if he had the physical ability to cry, he would be doing so right now—and quite heavily at that. He doesn't shed tears, but every heaving breath, every sob reverberates in his chest. They aggravate his wounds and make him dizzy with pain, but Neuvillette strangely finds this... alleviating in a way. He seeks it; he presses his forehead into Scylla's shoulder and clings to his clothes as he shakes violently.

 

It is storming now. And Neuvillette longs for the feeling of it. "I want... to feel..." he is interrupted by a sob, "the rain– I want to–"

 

"I know. I'm sorry."

 

Neuvillette sucks in a shaky breath. He knows he's being pathetic, but can't find it in himself to care. Not when his body and his mind are so broken, not when he can't even recall the reason why. Not when he's shattered and doesn't know how to piece himself back together.

 

"Too much."

 

"What is too much?"

 

It hurts. "Everything." But Scylla's presence is familiar and comforting. Neuvillette feels like a heavy weight has been lifted off his chest.

 

Was it true? Does Neuvillette really deserve more than what he allows himself to have? Is it only his own insecurity that is making him feel like outsider? Am I not... asking for too much?

 

Is this truly alright?

 

"Of course," Scylla replies.

 

Neuvillette exhales softly. And the rain eases.

Notes:

Big bro Scylla finally visits Neuvillette:D I think it's very in character for Neuvillette to keep everything in and try not to worry the people he wants to protect, but then breaking once he's with someone who is his senior.
Neuvi: yeah so actually I feel awful
Scylla: I know. And it's alright.
Neuvi: it is?🥺 --> 😭
Also finally Scylla meeting Wriothesley!! I've been thinking about this specific scene since before I even started writing the fic.

 

Freminet is also going through it in this chapter. And Lyney in denial lol. I hope I got their characters right:)

Chapter 19: Light As Death, Heavy As Duty

Notes:

Two days until the Nod Krai update!! (it's probably gonna debunk a lot of the theories I have included in this fic though)

After his mission in Sumeru, Dottore was forced to destroy all of his clones. In the time that followed, he created two more of them, and split his consciousness into three parts. But two out of three parts didn't survive the day the sky fell; one of them was crushed by the celestial nail, the other was killed by the hydro sovereign.

 

Now, three months after that day, Dottore is working on creating more clones, this time experimenting with different technologies.

 

"I will not be giving you more of my creations, Dottore," Sandrone says.

 

"Are you not interested in the results of my experiments anymore?"

 

"I simply do not wish to be a stepping stone in your foolish plans."

 

"Foolish? Hah! Once I have created a new god, you will no longer insult my ideas."

 

"Oh? Do tell me more." Both heads turn towards the sound of a new voice. At the table in the corner of the room, a woman sits comfortably, as if she has always been there.

 

Dottore grins. "You are quite skillful. I didn't hear you come in. So? Are you interested in my plans to control the divine?"

 

"Not at all. I actually wish to get rid of the divine completely. What is the point of divine beings existing if I am more powerful than them?"

 

Sandrone narrows her eyes. "It's you, isn't it? The one who made our plans fall short. The one who took over Teyvat."

 

"I am, indeed. As for the two of you, I do not need you in my new world. Your plans will be inconvenient for mine."

 

"You wish for a fight?" Dottore asks.

 

Rhinedottir laughs. "No, nothing of the sort. There is no need." She doesn't get out of her seat, instead only crossing her legs and clenching her right fist. "Begone."

 

Blood splatters on the walls.

 

 

---

 

 

The moment Neuvillette's missing memories return is a sudden one. Navia is speaking to him about a conversation she had with Clorinde, and the next moment his head spins. He's unsure if it's something Navia said, but her voice suddenly sounds muffled and Neuvillette is hit with everything that happened the month before the battle.

 

"Neuvillette? Is something wrong?"

 

Everything is wrong. Everything is wrong.

 

He gasps when memories of the fight itself enter his mind. He remembers– The Heavenly Principles, Gold, Nibelung– He remembers Scylla showing up outside the Opera Epiclese, the sky shattering, the barrier he put up to protect Fontaine, Wriothesley getting hurt– Is that why he has been wearing an eyepatch?

 

"Hey, Neuvillette? Are you in pain?"

 

He remembers killing Dottore, fighting against Nibelung, the change in the leylines, stabbing Nibelung and finishing him off by biting his throat, then Gold–

 

Neuvillette's stomach twists into a knot and bile rises to his throat. He can't breathe—why did Sigewinne take off the oxygen mask last week? When he still can't breathe? His hands tremble and his heart feels ready to burst out of his chest.

 

Navia gets up to leave—to call for help, Neuvillette's mind supplies, but he grabs her sleeve.

 

"I'll be right back, just–"

 

"No... please, stay. I'm not– I'm fine," he chokes out.

 

She hesitantly sits back down. "Are you sure?"

 

"Please... I only need a moment."

 

Neuvillette pants heavily. He wills himself to stop shaking, but his mind is reeling. He remembers his leg being cut off while fighting Nibelung, he remembers falling from Celestia—how is he not dead? He should be dead. He should be dead. He should be dead.

 

"Why am I not dead?"

 

"What?"

 

"I remember– I was–"

 

"Oh." And why does Navia look so sad?

 

"I'm sorry. Something was wrong with my memory before, but now I remember... and... why... Navia, please don't cry."

 

Navia shakes her head. "I was the one who– I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

 

"Why are you sorry?" Neuvillette is confused now.

 

"It was Clorinde and I who found you on that day. Neuvillette, you were dead," her voice cracks. "If I hadn't– Because of me–"

 

"You are... apologizing for saving me?"

 

"No! But you've been– those past three months–"

 

"I am... recovering."

 

"Of course! I know Neuvillette, I know. But I just... wish you could have been spared all this pain– I just– I'm sorry."

 

Neuvillette is not sure he understands why she's apologizing. Of course, he wouldn't be feeling any pain if he was dead. But he would be dead. If he was dead, he wouldn't be able to recover. He wouldn't be able to protect anyone.

 

Does she regret saving him because of how useless he is now? Yes, that would make sense. Although he is getting better, he knows that his body can never regenerate fully. He may never be able to regrow his left leg. Furthermore, his powers still haven't returned entirely and he doesn't know if they ever will. He can sense that the planet's leylines are in a somewhat better state—someone must have been working on purifying them—but his connection with his element is not strong enough.

 

And recovery is taking far too long. It has been three months since he was brought here, and although he doesn't remember the first two weeks—he was too out of it, according to those he asked—he knows that it has been a very slow process. He is only now able to drink water instead of being given fluids intravenously. He can stomach some soups too, but nothing more than that. Not that he'd like to. He quite enjoys soup.

 

But three months must be a long time for humans. Neuvillette has been absent from his duties while Fontaine needs him. Even if he never recovers fully, he must soon find a way to return to his work... he has been useless for too long... it is no wonder Navia–

 

"Neuvillette, the only thing that could make me regret saving you is you wishing that I hadn't. I am so very glad to see you getting better. It's just that... I can never forget..." she trails off, but Neuvillette thinks he understands. It must have been a terrible sight to witness. Again, he has caused trouble for the people around him.

 

"I am sorry."

 

"What are you sorry for?" Neuvillette averts his eyes and Navia sighs.

 

She moves the chair closer, then leans in and wraps her arms around him.

 

"Navia?"

 

"Just... let me have this," she whispers. "Neuvillette, I can't tell you in words just how happy I am that you're alive. I was so scared," she chokes out, stiffling a sob.

 

Neuvillette hugs her back. "I am–"

 

"Don't you dare apologize again."

 

"Ah. Alright." Navia chuckles weakly. They sit in silence for a few minutes.

 

"Navia, can you tell me what I have missed?"

 

She stares at him judgmentally, a comical image due to the dried tears on her cheeks and her red-rimmed eyes. "You are thinking of returning to work." It is not a question.

 

"I know that I cannot leave the hospital just yet. But I'm well enough to deal with certain things. I have been... inactive for too long."

 

"I'll answer as many questions as I can," Navia says. "But things have been mostly static, so don't worry too much. I know that it's repetitive, but Neuvillette, you really should focus on recovering. We have everything under control."

 

Neuvillette has no doubt about that. He trusts them. But he knows that they all have a lot of added workload because of him. Wriothesley only goes to the Fortress a few times a week and Clorinde has to deal with government matters that aren't among her duties. Navia has to manage the Spina di Rosula and most of the restorations. All because he is too injured to do his job.

 

He has a lot of things to take care of. Fortunately, he had thought of making a reserve of Pneumousia energy for emergency situations, which is what has been powering Fontaine for those past few months. But it must be running low, especially if the nation has been dealing with a lot of threats. He needs to recover enough strength to be able to fully utilize that aspect of his power again.

 

Yes, there is not much time. He must assess the state of the Maison Gardiennage, the severity of the damages and the progression of the reconstruction efforts, the state of the economy, the condition of any affected citizens, the situation in other nations... not to mention his own duties as the Chief Justice. There are many things to be done. Neuvillette must recover quickly.

 

 

---

 

 

"I won't become the next Knave."

 

"It is your choice Lyney," Lynette says. "But the House of the Hearth needs–"

 

"I will not abandon the House of the Hearth. I will become the head of the orphanage since it's what Father wanted of me. But I will not be the Knave."

 

Lynette tilts her head in confusion. "But those titles have always been held by the same person. Considering the orphanage is part of the Fatui, they won't let you off just like that."

 

"I know. That's why I'm planning to cut all ties to the Fatui. The Hearth will no longer have dealings with them."

 

"What? Lyney... they're... the orphanage is funded by the Fatui, you know that. So what are you trying to do?"

 

"I will handle it, Lynette. Don't worry."

 

"Stop doing that! Stop leaving us out of all your plans. Stop doing everything by yourself."

 

"I'm just trying to protect y–"

 

"I know," Lynette interrupts. "But my point stands. Freminet and I, we can handle ourselves. You can tell us things, Lyney."

 

"I just... sorry. It's not that I don't trust you or your abilities. But there are some matters I need to take care of alone. They're my responsibility."

 

"And we are your siblings. Just because Father made you her heir, that doesn't mean that she wants– that she would want you to handle everything alone."

 

Lyney grimaces. "And did she tell you that?"

 

"What? Lyney..."

 

"She didn't. And she never told me, either. So let me handle this the way I think is best."

 

"So stubborn..." Lynette mumbles.

 

"Sorry, Lynette. I'll take care of things, I promise." The only answer he receives is an annoyed sigh.

 

 

---

 

 

Cracks form on the ground beneath Neuvillette's feet. It shakes and then it crumbles. He loses his balance and a void opens up to swallow him. He's falling. He stares at the bottomless pit and it stares back at him. He's falling and–

 

Neuvillette wakes up with a gasp. His body shoots upwards and he gasps again, this time in pain. Sweat rolls down his face and it takes all of his effort to keep from screaming.

 

He tries to breathe, but his inhales come in sharp gasps. He looks around the room in an attempt to ground himself. The dimmed hospital lights, the medical equipment, the curtains... beyond them is– No. His eyes dart around the room in search of something. The folded blankets on the couch, the little trinkets and cards the melusines made for him, a conch from Scylla, a book Clorinde brought him... He breathes in, then out.

 

The pain dulls eventually, but his body trembles. His limbs twitch as his nerves keep firing. Neuvillette brings his left forearm to his face and covers his eyes. He concentrates on breathing.

 

He should go back to sleep. But sleep is... sleep brings... Ah, how pathetic of him. How weak he is. He should be focused on recovering, and sleep is a necessary part of it. Yet, nightmares about that day just keep interrupting it, keep waking him in the middle of the night. Yes, how pathetic. Why is he afraid? What is he afraid of? Why do the memories keep replaying in his mind?

 

Neuvillette lies awake. If he doesn't sleep, he cannot dream. If he cannot dream, he will not have to see his own failures. If he cannot dream, he will not wake up in pain. So he tries to not let sleep take him. He might dream tomorrow, he might see himself fail again tomorrow, but for today Neuvillette doesn't wish to dream. So he lies awake and tries to breathe.

 

His next breath hitches when another wave of pain hits. It radiates from his lower back and his– his legs? They tremble and Neuvillette feels it and it hurts. There is a void where the lower part of his left leg used to be, but it hurts. This time, he cannot help the scream that leaves him.

 

An annoying sound invades his senses and he needs it gone, just like he needs the pain gone. But the noise stays, and the pain stays, and then there are hands touching him. More noise– stop it. Please. Dark silhouettes move around him, but he can't place them. The more his legs twitch, the more it hurts. Now everything else hurts too; his back is on fire, his stomach lurches and he can't breathe. He screams again.

 

The voices are louder now, they sound familiar but he needs them gone. Something is placed on his face and his breaths come easier, but the pain is still–

 

"...Neuvillette?"

 

"...more..."

 

"...sleep?"

 

No, please. He doesn't want to sleep. He just needs everything to stop, but he doesn't want to sleep. He doesn't– doesn't...

 

Neuvillette senses something cold inside his veins and then he's getting drowsy– No, please. But he can't fight it. The pain gets less intense, less agonizing, but he feels his consciousness slip away. No... if he dreams– Ah, he's so pathetic. He should be stronger than this. This is his last thought before his efforts fail and he's out cold.

Notes:

Neuvillette finally remembered all the shit that went down. He's very traumatized, but at least now he knows the reason he's feeling this way and he can begin to process it properly.

 

We also got mad scientist vs mad scientist but Dottore never stood a chance lol. I wasn't sure about putting Sandrone there, but we don't know much about her character yet so I didn't have a way to make her relevant to the fic. But her technologies might help Gold with her own plans now;)

Chapter 20: Fabric Of Dreams

Notes:

Can't believe we're already almost 2/3 through the fic. Once again, thank you to everyone who has left comments and kudos... I never imagined that my first attempt at writing would be so well received.

Getting out of bed for the first time is excruciating, Neuvillette finds. Due to his body being different than a human's, he had no need to worry about bed sores while he was fully bedridden. Not being moved around too much allowed for faster healing, but it seems that he became too accustomed to it. Because moving hurts.

 

He can't help a low groan of pain when he is carefully lifted and eased into a wheelchair. He knew that a lot of his bones had to be fixed with rods and screws, some internally and others externally, but they weren't bothering him too much until now. The brace around his midsection scrapes along his surgical incisions and he has to clench his jaw to stiffle a pained whimper at the discomfort. He can feel his lower body just fine now, but bending his right knee takes too much effort, so he lets the nurses do it for him. He doesn't like it, but he has little strength left. Moving his left leg—whatever remains of it—is even more uncomfortable, because his stitches pull at every slight movement.

 

By the time he is sitting on the wheelchair and a blanket is laid over his lap, he is panting with exhaustion. It is humiliating, how easily he gets tired these days. Some of the drips connected to him have to be moved along, which he finds even more embarrassing. As if reading his thoughts, Sigewinne puts a hand over his own and smiles at him softly. He smiles back; it looks more like a grimace than a smile, but he hopes that she understands the intention.

 

Neuvillette asks to be taken to the window. Now that he remembers why the sky looks wrong, he wants to see the results for himself. It is the same shade he was looking at while he was falling. He doesn't remember if it was morning or afternoon, but right now it looks the same as it did then.

 

Serene and Cosanzeana visit, along with Wriothesley. Neuvillette is very thankful for everyone's visits. He hopes it isn't too much trouble for them.

 

"Oh? Already out of bed?" Wriothesley smiles at him.

 

"Already? It has been almost four months, Wriothesley," Neuvillette replies. Ah, was it sarcasm?

 

"With your injuries, yes Neuvillette, already. I'm being serious."

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette! I brought you some flowers," Cosanzeana says.

 

"And I brought soup," Serene adds. "The others made it, but I wanted to bring it to you while it's still warm."

 

"Ah, thank you both very much."

 

"It has tidalga in it," Serene says as an afterthought. Neuvillette smiles.

 

He balances the bowl of soup on his right arm, which is still wrapped in a sling, and slowly eats with his left hand. It is not his dominant one, but he has been getting used to doing more things with it.

 

While Cosanzeana looks around the room in search of a vase, Wriothesley brings a chair next to Neuvillette and beckons Serene to sit. "Oh, thank you, your Grace." She leans into Neuvillette, careful not to bother him when he's still eating. Wriothesley props himself on the windowsill.

 

"I was looking outside."

 

"Well, now you're gonna have to look at me because I have something to tell you," Wriothesley says and Neuvillette huffs with a small smile.

 

"So," Wriothesley continues, "is there any chance your left leg can regenerate?" He lifts his arms in surrender when the two melusines glare at him. "Hey, I have reason for asking, I swear."

 

"I do not believe so. It might partly regenerate in the future, but as I am now... no."

 

"Alright. Until you can be sure whether it will or not, I have a solution for you."

 

"A solution?"

 

"You know Freminet, right? He's pretty good with mechanical stuff. We've been working on something lately." At Neuvillette's wide eyed look, Wriothesley smiles. "A prosthetic leg. Instead of working to regrow your leg, you can use what healing powers you have to properly connect your nerves and muscles with specific parts of the prosthetic. If it works, it will function as a normal leg would."

 

"Wriothesley..."

 

"So, what do you say?"

 

"I really... Thank you, Wriothesley. I would– yes, thank you."

 

"I take it you like the idea?"

 

"Yes. I... will have to thank Freminet as well. Really, I am–"

 

"Hey, don't worry about that too. I'll give your thanks to him. And you can do it personally when he comes here."

 

"I will have to find a way to repay–"

 

Wriothesley groans loudly in exasperation. "Of course you'd say that," he mutters. "Come on, Neuvillette, none of that. If it works, that's enough for us."

 

 

---

 

 

It's raining heavily. West of the city of Mondstadt, Albedo and his comrades are holding back the creatures coming out of the newest abyssal rift that has opened up. The wind—Barbatos' wind—howls and rages across the battlefield.

 

"Reinforcements from the Grandmaster will be here soon. We just need to hold out for a little longer," Kaeya says.

 

"Right," his brother replies sarcastically. "Like the Knights of Favonius have ever done anything except fail to do their job."

 

Albedo sends a burst of geo towards an abyss mage and crystallizes Diluc's fire to make a shield for himself. The electro mage's attacks hit the shield and Albedo uses his elemental power to move towards it and slash its head off.

 

"Brother Albedo!"

 

He turns around. "Durin? You shouldn't be here. It's dangerous."

 

Durin is still much too young to be in battle. He has a sword and a pyro vision that he gained recently, but he hasn't learned how to properly fight with either of them. Albedo created this human form of the young dragon only months ago, by combining parts of Dragonspine's Durin with Simulanka's Durin. Though he has the memories of both, this Durin is still a child. He is adjusting to his new body, but he hasn't been able to use the wings to fly yet. He is young and inexperienced. And Albedo wishes to protect what little innocence he has left. So why is he here? Why is he not back in the city where it's safe?

 

"But I want to help too. My fighting skills have been improving, you'll see!"

 

"No, Durin. You're not experienced enough for this fight. Get to safety."

 

Albedo doesn't wait to see Durin's reaction because another wave of enemies exits the rift. He readies his sword for the next attack, hoping Durin will listen to him.

 

He sidesteps a dendro samachurl's vines and moves closer to the cliffside—close enough to hear the waves lapping at the rocks. In the distance, he sees trees bending to the anemo archon's will, a hurricane made to prevent the enemies from advancing. The bard's winds send the weakest of enemies hurling towards Albedo.

 

He creates a cage of geo, trapping them inside, and then he puts a fist on the ground to make the surrounding area collapse. Cracks form and the ground begins to give away. Albedo takes a step back and watches as the cliff shakes.

 

A gust of air from above him makes him look up to see a mitachurl aiming for him. He got too distracted. The rest of the enemies will fall off the cliff, but there is no time to avoid this one. He enhances his arms in geo and lifts one over his head in protection as the mitachurl approaches.

 

"Brother Albedo, watch out!" Durin?

 

A surge of pyro sends the enemy back and it joins the rest of them in the collapsing cliffside. But Durin hasn't learned to fight with a vision yet—the power pushes him to the side and dangerously close to the edge.

 

"No, Durin!" Albedo reaches out but the unsteady ground makes the young dragon lose his balance. The side of the cliff gives away. The enemies fall and Durin falls with them.

 

Multiple splashes can be heard when they hit the water. The rain and the large waves make it impossible to see if Durin managed to breach the surface. The wind will take him away, Albedo has to–

 

He picks up the sound of a blade approaching to his head and he dodges, turning around to see a new wave of hilichurls. There is no time to look for Durin. Albedo needs to keep fighting.

 

He tells himself that Durin is a smart and resourceful child, that even if the waves take him away he will find his way back. With that, Albedo rejoins the fight. But worry gnaws at him. He hopes his little brother is alright.

 

 

---

 

 

Neuvillette is dreaming.

 

He knows this, because he feels no pain. Since he was injured three months ago, pain has been his ever present companion. Even with all the drugs flowing through his bloodstream, he can't recall how it is to not be in constant agony.

 

That, and he is walking on two legs. He's aware that his left leg can't have magically regenerated, especially considering he still doesn't have his full elemental power.

 

So even though he doesn't remember falling asleep, Neuvillette can tell that this is a dream.

 

It isn't anything like the dreams he has been having recently. Or at least, he doesn't think so. There is no ground to give away, no endless chasm to open up and swallow him. And none of the people he cares about are around—there is no one for him to fail.

 

He is standing in the middle of an unfamiliar room, one that resembles Sumeru's architecture. Ah, he's not in Fontaine then.

 

"Hello, Mister hydro dragon."

 

He realizes he's not alone. In the corner of the room, there is a little girl, dressed in all green, and her presence...

 

"You are the dendro archon."

 

She smiles at him. "Please, call me Nahida."

 

Neuvillette has heard about Nahida's imprisonment, he knows what mistreatment she has been through. She is one of the usurpers, yes, but her sense of responsibility is admirable. So even though he has no positive opinions on any of the archons, he finds the dendro archon more... tolerable. And if she showed up in his dream, she must have something important to talk to him about.

 

"I am Neuvillette," he says. "Miss Nahida, why are you present in my dream?"

 

"It was the only way I could think of to get in contact with you. I need to talk to you about something."

 

"Go on."

 

Nahida looks up at him. "I'm sure you know the current state of Teyvat, Mister Neuvillette. The abyssal influence is severe."

 

"Are you the one who has been purifying the leylines?" Neuvillette asks.

 

"I've had help."

 

"You mean..."

 

Nahida smiles. "Yes. Although the dendro dragon isn't as fond of humans as you are, she wishes to protect the place where her children live."

 

"The throne of dendro is still intact."

 

"That's right. Apep doesn't have her full power, so there isn't a lot she can do at the moment. I don't blame you if you think it is my fault, Mister Neuvillette."

 

"Am I mistaken?"

 

Nahida creates a swing out of her dendro power and hops on it. "Not really. But even if I died, the throne wouldn't be destroyed. The new ruler of Celestia won't let it happen so easily."

 

"I am aware." Neuvillette looks around the room. "Miss Nahida, what reason do you have for being here?"

 

"We must deal with Rhinedottir and the Abyss and restore peace to Teyvat."

 

"I already attempted that, as I'm sure you're aware. It did not... end well for me," Neuvillette says bitterly.

 

"I know. Mister Neuvillette, I know that you got badly injured and you are still recovering. It is part of the reason I appeared in a dream and didn't come to see you in person."

 

"Then... what is it that you want?" Neuvillette knows he's being rude, but he is too tired for this.

 

"An alliance. After you recover, I'd like to propose some ideas I have for dealing with Rhinedottir. I will gather more allies until then."

 

"If by allies you mean the other archons, then I refuse to ally myself with the usurpers." He doesn't mention that with the enxent of his injuries, it is unlikely he will recover enough to be able to fight again.

 

"There is another reason for my appearance here, Mister Neuvillette," Nahida says. "The electro and pyro archons are dead."

 

What? Both of them? When did this happen?

 

Nahida continues, "Rhinedottir is targeting all of us. Very few remain."

 

"What does that have to do with me?" Of course, Neuvillette would have liked to have the opportunity to judge all of the archons for their sins. But he is not particularly sad about their demise. His only worry is that the fate of Teyvat seems to be even more uncertain now. Why is Gold doing this? What does she have to gain?

 

"You are one of the few beings that could help defeat Rhinedottir. Please... think about it. About this alliance."

 

Alliance? With them? He wouldn't mind allying himself with the dendro archon, but the rest of them? How can he say he seeks justice if he works with the ones who brought injustice to his kin?

 

"Mister Neuvillette, all of us have a common goal. Protecting what we have is what Apep wants too. If you agreed to this alliance, maybe she would also consider it."

 

"So... you wish for me to join you so I can help you convince the dendro sovereign?"

 

"That is not the main reason, of course. You are the only sovereign at full power." Full power? What a joke. Neuvillette can barely move as he is. Is she mocking him?

 

"It would be like killing two birds with one stone. Isn't that what the humans say?"

 

Neuvillette sighs. He's tired. Can he do this? And if he can, does he want to? He's just so tired. Does this world want to take away everything that he is? And if he lets it, will his people be saved?

Notes:

(I love parallels)

Also Albedo and Durin join the fic!! Can't have Rhinedottir as the main antagonist and not have those two in the story. If Durin shows up in Nod Krai and his canon personality turns out to be different... oh well.

Chapter 21: Petrichor

Notes:

Durin joined the story in the previous chapter and I'm already really enjoying writing him. He's just a baby dragon. You can't tell me it wouldn't be adorable to have him meet Neuvillette and the melusines.
(Me desperately trying to turn my self indulgent scenarios into plot points)

Neuvillette did not anticipate how different walking would feel. With his left leg now weighing less than the right, his center of balance is thrown off. The sensation is strange. Even though his one side is pulling him down, for some reason he feels as if his left leg is still whole. He knows it's not, his body knows it's not. Yet his mind can't quite process the empty space. How strange.

 

He has barely taken three steps and he already feels worn out. Even with his left arm holding a crutch and his right one thrown over Clorinde's shoulders, he struggles to keep his body upright. But he wants this. He's the one who asked for it.

 

Sedene told him that there is a small balcony a short distance away from his room in the hospital. And it is currently raining. Neuvillette can't take it any longer. He needs to feel the water on his skin, he needs to be close to his element.

 

A sudden stabbing pain passes through his spine when he takes another step and Neuvillette hisses. The crutch drops to the floor and then he's falling– he's falling– he might– the ground–

 

"I've got you. It's alright." Clorinde's voice sounds muffled to his ears. Furina is on his other side and she's picking the crutch off the floor. She gives it back to him, but she doesn't let go of it—she waits until Neuvillette's hands stop shaking. Until he is back to the present.

 

"We can go back and try again later."

 

"No, I want– please..."

 

"Alright."

 

The short walk to the balcony takes an embarrassingly long time. But as soon as they're outside and the first raindrops land on Neuvillette, all of his exhaustion is washed away. He sighs in bliss and the rain picks up. Clorinde helps him to a chair before stepping back. Furina joins him and leans on the armrest on his left side, while Neuvillette tilts his head back and lets the water hit his face.

 

It is... delightful, but also overwhelming. He hasn't been close to the water in such a long time. He hasn't even had a proper bath for months. The nurses have been doing their best to wash his body with cloths, but being under the rain is so different. So much... more.

 

Neuvillette smiles, a small, shaky upturn of his lips. He closes his eyes and connects his senses to the water in the clouds. The rain falls even harder.

 

"Ugh, my hair is ruined," Furina exclaims.

 

"Sorry," Neuvillette says, but he doesn't actually feel guilty about it. It might be selfish of him, but he needs this.

 

Furina laughs. "Don't apologize, silly."

 

"Maybe you should've stepped back with me," Clorinde says.

 

"I probably should have. Well, now the damage is done, so I'll just stay here."

 

At that, Neuvillette opens his palm and removes the rain from Furina's clothes and hair, then creates a small shield just above her head to prevent any more rain from reaching her.

 

"Hey, are you sure you're well enough to do that? Don't push yourself for something so trivial."

 

"This doesn't consume any of my energy. I will be fine."

 

"Well then, thanks."

 

They sit in silence for a while. Neuvillette doesn't want to go back in, but he knows that he can't stay out in the balcony for too long.

 

"Are you not going to dry yourself off?" Clorinde asks while she helps him inside.

 

"Yeah, you look like a drenched cat," Furina adds.

 

Neuvillette pouts internally, but he doesn't let it show on his face. It would be undignified. He only sighs in disappointment. "Fine." He removes the water from his body and the hospital gown he's wearing, but he doesn't dry his hair completely.

 

They sit on a line of chairs right outside Neuvillette's room. He doesn't wish to return just yet.

 

"Neuvillette?"

 

"Hm?"

 

"Wriothesley will be coming here in a bit. He said he has something to show you. We can wait for him here, if you want."

 

"Ah... alright."

 

"In the meantime," Clorinde says, "I'll go get us something to eat."

 

 

---

 

 

I hope Brother Albedo is not mad at me.

 

Durin drifts. He floats on his back and looks at the sky. How long has it been? Hours? No, it must have been at least a day.

 

He doesn't know how to swim. It was very hard, at first. The waves were pulling him back under and he was struggling to stay afloat no matter how much he moved his arms and legs. His wings were completely useless and he thought he was going to drown.

 

But he didn't, even with the panic that overtook him. The storm receded, the waves got smaller, and Durin got more familiar with keeping his head above the surface. For hours, the wind would send him at different directions, but the shore was nowhere to be seen. So he kept drifting.

 

He now floats on his back, exhausted and afraid, though less so than before. He blinks in surprise when he makes out the distant sound of voices. Is he hallucinating?

 

But no... there... behind him, he can clearly see a shore. It is not Mondstadt, he's sure of that. Mondstadt doesn't have such huge waterfalls. It must be Fontaine. He read about Fontaine in a book recently.

 

Should he call for help? Will they hear him? Probably not; he should try to swim. But he's tired... Maybe if he's lucky, the water will take him there.

 

Something touches his leg and he yelps. Durin tries to shake off whatever it is, he twists and turns and kicks his legs in an attempt to get free.

 

"Please stop struggling!"

 

A little head appears next to him and he yelps again. "What... huh?"

 

"Please remain calm. I will get you to shore safely."

 

So he flops uselessly and lets his body be carried out of the water. Durin is touching the ground way sooner than he expected—whoever helped him must be a great swimmer—and then he's coughing and sputtering, trying to expell all the salt water than is currently making his throat burn.

 

The first thing he notices about his savior is that she's tiny. How did she carry him so quickly? She must be quite strong. The next thing Durin notices is that she's not human.

 

"Hello. I'm Chourei of the Marrechause Phantom. You're in Lumidouce Harbor. Are you alright?"

 

"Yes, I– um, what are you?"

 

"Hm? Oh! You mustn't be from Fontaine. I'm a melusine!" she says and waves at him.

 

A melusine? Durin doesn't think he's ever heard of this creature before. Or maybe he has? He's not sure. But this melusine smells... familiar, somehow.

 

"Oh, I see. My name is Durin. I'm from Mondstadt."

 

Chourei touches her chin in contemplation. Does she also sense something familiar from him? Have they met before? They couldn't have—neither of his... parts has ever been to Fontaine.

 

"You're a dragon."

 

"Huh? How do you know?" Durin asks. Could she also... "Are you a dragon too?"

 

"Not exactly. But we were born out of one."

 

"We? Are there others like you?"

 

"Oh, yes! I have a lot of sisters."

 

Durin is relieved, maybe even happy. It seems that there are others like him in Fontaine. Albedo is teaching him proper human behavior, but he can't always get it right. And the humans stare at him, especially at his horns and his wings. Albedo said there is a way to hide the wings, but Durin doesn't want to. Why would he hide what is his? Humans don't hide their arms or their legs, so why should he?

 

"Are you alright? The waters below the waterfalls aren't very safe to swim in."

 

"Ah, yeah, I'm alright. Thank you for saving me, Chourei."

 

Durin must return to Mondstadt, to Albedo. But is it really so bad to spend a day or two in Fontaine? He wants to meet others like Chourei, others like himself. Having a human form is nice, but there are many expectations and rules in society. For once, Durin wants to not have to worry about hiding parts of himself.

 

"I finish work in ten minutes. Would you like to come to the city with me? There is no aquabus leaving from here so you won't have a guide."

 

Aquabus? Guide? "A guide?" Durin asks.

 

"My sisters Aeval and Elphane are the aquabus guides. They would have talked about Fontaine and recommended places to visit, so your stay here would have been easier. But I guess I'll just have to be your guide instead!"

 

"Oh. Alright, thank you."

 

"No need to thank me! Just give me ten minutes and then we can go. I'll even introduce you to some of my sisters when we get to the city!"

 

More melusines? Durin is excited to get to meet others similar to him. He hopes they are as nice as Chourei. He hopes they like him.

 

 

---

 

 

"How does it feel?"

 

Neuvillette eyes the metallic leg that is loosely attached to the sides of his knee. "Strange."

 

Wriothesley hums. "It's probably the Ousia infusion. I know that you can use both types of energy, but Pneuma comes more naturally to you, right? So I added some Ousia energy in specific parts that you can connect to your leg."

 

Neuvillette feels a warmth in his chest. "Oh. Yes, you are correct. Thank you Wriothesley, for thinking about this."

 

"It'll still need to be surgically attached to you, though. To connect your nerves and bones. But I don't really know how that would work, so the doctors will need to figure it out."

 

"You have already done more than enough. Really, thank you."

 

"Don't thank me just yet. We don't know how well it will work. Also, you're gonna have to stay in the hospital for a week or so longer. Are you fine with that?"

 

"It is better than being unable to walk, no?"

 

Wriothesley chuckles. "Yeah, can't argue with that."

 

Neuvillette feeds some Pneuma energy into the prosthetic and it sends a slight electric jolt through his leg. "I could feel it through the Pneumousia reaction. Wriothesley, this... this might work."

 

"Well, that's the plan."

 

Neuvillette tries extending his knees. Even though he can't feel it properly, the prosthetic moves with the motion. He looks at it as it hangs loosely on his knee.

 

"Is it... slightly bigger than my other leg?"

 

"You noticed, huh?"

 

"Ah... I didn't mean– I do appreciate the–"

 

"It was done on purpose."

 

Neuvillette doesn't know what to say to that. Why would it be asymmetrical on purpose? Surely Wriothesley knows that it would look strange.

 

"I can see you're confused so I'll explain," Wriothesley says. "Neuvillette, you've lost a lot of weight during the past months. But this is a good goal to have, isn't it? It would be weird to suddenly appear in public with two differently sized legs. So you just have to eat enough to make them look symmetrical," he smirks slightly.

 

Neuvillette blinks. And blinks once more. "... Wriothesley..."

 

"You don't have to say anything. But you know, Neuvillette, when I was living in the streets, I hated losing weight without meaning to. Even more than the hunger, I hated seeing myself get weaker and weaker, I hated being unable to gain enough muscle to protect myself." Wriothesley licks his lips, as if checking the taste of his next words. "It's probably different for you, considering most of your power is elemental, and you're naturally stronger than a human even now, but I still... can't imagine being okay with seeing your physical abilities weaken. That's why I–"

 

"No, Wriothesley, it's– Thank you. Truly. It did not cross my mind, since there is no mirror here for me to be able to tell the difference. But you are correct. It is indeed a good goal to have."

Notes:

Wrio showing he cares in his own little ways (that happen to stem from his childhood trauma lol)

Chapter 22: Somewhere To Belong

Notes:

A calm chapter but not for long:D

When Neuvillette awakens from surgery, he feels strangely well-rested. His left leg—the one that was operated on and connected to the prosthetic—aches, but it's nothing compared to the pain he's become so accustomed to feeling. He is nauseous and there is a slight buzz in his mind, so he knows he must have been given pain medication, albeit much less than his first two months here. Because there is no disorientation, none of the mutted confusion and debilitating dizziness that was present before. 

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette?" 

 

Sigewinne is next to him. "Yes?" His voice is raspy and he coughs twice to clear his throat. 

 

"How are you feeling?" 

 

Neuvillette squeezes her hand. "Fine." And it's true. "Better than I have in a long time," he adds. 

 

Sigewinne smiles at him and then grabs his hand with both of her own. "I'm glad." She continues, "The surgery went really well. Your bone will need some time to grow into the prosthetic and be fully aligned, but everything was successful." 

 

Neuvillette smiles back. "This means that the rest is up to me, yes?" 

 

"Yes, but Monsieur, you don't have to do it now. The Pneumousia connection will take up a lot of your energy. You must rest first." 

 

"I would like to do it now. I... wish to feel it. And I am quite alright, Sigewinne, I assure you." 

 

Sigewinne hums happily. "I understand, Monsieur Neuvillette. But I'd like to be here with you, is that okay?" 

 

"Of course, dear." 

 

Sigewinne raises the bed so he can be in a half-sitting position. Neuvillette feels his own energies running through his body. He feels the Ousia's low humming just below his knee. He senses the electric connections of his own nerves and the hydro under his skin.

 

He closes his eyes and directs his energy. His own Pneuma reaches the edges of the prosthetic leg's Ousia. The resulting reaction sends a jolt through him and his left leg twitches. Neuvillette tries to get it to move—the pain intensifies and the stitches below his knee pull but he doesn't pay it any mind, because his ankle slightly moves. He pushes some of his elemental energy into it and he can sense his muscles contract and connect to the new leg. 

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette? Is everything okay?" 

 

It hurts, but Neuvillette smiles. "Yes," he sighs. 

 

"That's great! Monsieur, you did it!" Sigewinne wraps her arms around him in a hug. "It worked!" 

 

"Indeed. As long as I can keep the Pneumousia connection, the leg feels almost as if it is my own flesh. It will not take long for me to walk on it." But now that the initial joy has begun to fade, Neuvillette is tired. 

 

Sigewinne notices how his eyelids threaten to close. "You can sleep now, Monsieur. You must be exhausted." 

 

"Ah, yes. I believe I will sleep for some time. You may do so as well, Sigewinne." 

 

"Mhm." Neuvillette expects her to leave, but she only climbs into bed with him, hugging his left arm and leaning into his shoulder. He smiles softly and lets his eyes close. 

 

He feels terrible for what his daughters have gone through because of him. Especially for Sigewinne, being part of everything and oftentimes having his life in her hands must have been extremely hard. Neuvillette knows that he couldn't help what happened, but he still feels guilty about it. But Sigewinne is strong; all of the melusines are. He is very proud of them. 

 

 

---

 

 

Navia knocks on the door to Neuvillette's room, but there is no reply. Is he asleep? But Sigewinne mentioned that she would stay with him after the surgery. She knocks once more, then lets herself inside.

 

Navia can't help herself. "Aww." 

 

Neuvillette is asleep in a halfway sitting position, with a blanket thrown over his legs. Sigewinne's head is pillowed on his left shoulder and she's hugging his arm. On his right side, another melusine is sleeping—one Navia hasn't met before—with her head next to Neuvillette's chest and an arm thrown over his abdomen, carefully avoiding the surgical scars. 

 

"Shh! You'll wake them up!" a voice says from the couch. 

 

"Oh, sorry," Navia whispers. "Hello there, Menthe." 

 

"Hi, Miss Navia." Menthe waves at her. 

 

"Didn't feel like joining the cuddle pile?" 

 

"I have some papers to read over first. Then I'll join." 

 

Navia smiles and sits on the couch next to her. "Anything I can help with?" 

 

"Hm," Menthe says thoughtfully, "not really. But I'm almost done. I was doing some work when Laume came to find me and said we should visit Monsieur Neuvillette. So I took the rest of the papers with me." 

 

Menthe is finishing up her work when Neuvillette wakes up. He looks confused for a short moment, then softly pats Laume's head and looks around the room, his gaze landing at the couch. "Ah. Hello, Menthe, Navia," he whispers. 

 

Menthe waves at him excitedly. Navia whispers back, "Hi, Neuvillette. Had a good sleep?" 

 

"I did, yes." 

 

"I'm glad. Oh! By the way, I ran into your surgeon on my way here. Doctor Margot says that with your progress, you might be out of here in less than a week." 

 

Neuvillette blinks in surprise. "That is sooner than I expected. But I hope she is right." 

 

"Yeah, I'm sure you're sick of this place. But you'll be home before you know it. However, you might have to use a crutch for a while. I don't think your cane will be enough, at least until you can use your leg properly." 

 

Neuvillette nods. "That is alright. I simply look forward to leaving the hospital." 

 

"Should we go forward with explaining your absence to the people? I don't like it, because you haven't fully recovered and it will only put you in more danger, but they will eventually see you. Although, honestly, most people suspect what happened. The melusines are trying to keep it a secret, but everyone can see that have been looking happier lately. So this will simply be the confirmation. " 

 

"You know I didn't agree with keeping the people in the dark in the first place. But... your logic was sound. Now, I believe it's time for them to know the truth. And I will try to speed up my recovery so I can return to my duties." 

 

"I'll speak with Charlotte about putting the news in tomorrow's paper," Navia says. "But Neuvillette, you should take it easy for a while." 

 

"My duties have added much workload on you all. I do not like... being a burden." 

 

"Neuvillette, you... ugh." Navia lets out a loud sigh. "You got so badly injured that you died five times, just to protect all of us. We are alive only because of you. And you think taking time to recover is you being a burden?" 

 

"I have been absent for too long, Navia." 

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette," Menthe says, "I agree with Miss Navia. You were very hurt. You shouldn't push yourself." 

 

"Please don't worry about me. I will be alright." He tries to change the subject: "How have you been Menthe? I hope your work hasn't been too hard on you lately." 

 

"Not at all! I'm doing really well! I even had some free time to hang out with some of my sisters yesterday." 

 

"I'm very pleased to hear that." 

 

"Oh! And Chourei made a new friend." 

 

"A new friend?" Neuvillette asks. 

 

"Yeah! His name is Durin. He's from Mondstadt." 

 

At the mention of his name, Neuvillette pales. "Durin, you say?" 

 

"Yes, yes. I haven't met him yet, but Elphane, Serene and a few of the others have. They told me he's a dragon!" 

 

"Ah..." 

 

"Monsieur Neuvillette? Is something wrong?" 

 

"No, no, my apologies. What else do you know about this Durin?" 

 

"Chourei saved him from drowning a few days ago. She said that Durin is still very young and he has only been among humans, so he wanted to meet others who are similar to him. You should meet him too, Monsieur!" Menthe says before narrowing her eyes. "But I will speak to him first, to make sure he's not a threat." 

 

Neuvillette blinks, thrown aback. Navia giggles.

 

"Menthe," Neuvillette says, "please tell your sisters to be careful. I believe Durin is the name of a dragon who once attacked Mondstadt. It is unlikely this Durin is the same one, but..." 

 

"Oh. Hm. Yes, Monsieur, I'll let them know." 

 

 

---

 

 

Durin has been in Fontaine for almost two weeks. Chourei showed him how to send letters and he sent one to Albedo to let him know that he's alright. He was planning on finding a way to return the day after he sent the letter, but Albedo replied and told him that it's not safe for him in Mondstadt right now. He said that if Durin is able to find a safe place in Fontaine, it's better for him to stay there until things calm down. Even the journey itself could be dangerous, with the abyss lurking in every corner of Teyvat. 

 

And so Durin has been staying in Fontaine. He asked Chourei to show him the way to a hotel or any other place where he can stay, but she offered to let him stay at her house for a few days. Brother Albedo says that people could have bad intentions sometimes, but Durin doesn't think that the melusines he has met mean any harm to him. In a way, they smell like... family. Like Albedo.

 

Melusines, as it turns out, are similar to himself. Some of them have horns, just like him. They don't have wings, but they have tails that swish when they're excited. Durin has also learned that they see things differently than humans do, yet their views are appreciated here in Fontaine. They say it hasn't always been this way, but it does make him feel better about his own differences. 

 

Melusines also talk a lot about a 'Monsieur Neuvillette'. Durin has heard of this name from conversations between humans around him, especially in the past week. But humans talk about him differently—with a kind of respect that is somewhat distant. Melusines, however, are always happy whenever he is mentioned. Their ears twitch and their tails swish in excitement. Durin thinks that Monsieur Neuvillette must be to them what Albedo is to him. 

 

Last week, he met a melusine called Serene and she told him that she actually lives in a village called Merusea along with some of her sisters. She said that it was attacked and it's not safe to go back yet. Durin can understand the feeling. He wonders how many creatures have to be away from their homes because of the current situation. 

 

Yesterday morning, he and Chourei ran into Serene again. She looked excited and said that Monsieur Neuvillette finally returned home. Was he away from home just like the melusines? Just like Durin himself? Will Brother Albedo also be happy like Serene when he returns to Mondstadt? Will he scold him for being so careless during battle? Durin hopes he's not too mad. 

 

"Hey, watch out!" 

 

He feels Blanthine pull him to the side and looks up to see– Oh. A lamppost. He was so lost in thought that he almost walked straight into it. 

 

"Sorry," Durin says.

 

This morning, before Chourei left for work, she introduced him to Blanthine and Menthe. It is their day off, he found out, and they are taking him somewhere. Probably to meet more of their sisters, but Durin wasn't paying attention to the conversation, so he can't be sure. 

 

"Is it really okay for Durin to meet with Monsieur Neuvillette so soon?" Menthe asks. 

 

Oh. He probably should have paid more attention. 

 

"I think it's alright." Blanthine stops walking and looks at Durin. "But," she puts her hands on her hips, "if you are mean to Monsieur Neuvillette or try to hurt him, you will regret it." 

 

Before Durin can say anything, she turns around and continues walking. He looks at Menthe for an explanation, but she only nods. 

 

They reach a large house and Blanthine knocks on the door. A melusine opens it and tilts her head at him. "Who are you?" 

 

"Uh, my name is Durin." 

 

"Oh! I've heard of you. I'm Cosanzeana," she says. "You can come in, I think." 

 

The previously loud chatter of melusines ceases when Durin steps into the house. He looks around, recognizing Serene, Muirne and Elphane—they are gathered around a small table and playing some kind of game. 

 

On the couch facing the door, a white-haired man sits with a book in his hands and a thin blanket covering his legs. A melusine sits on the other end of the couch with the edge of the blanket on her lap, and another one is perched on the armrest behind him while braiding his hair. 

 

Durin sees two more melusines looking at him from the open door to the kitchen. There are more voices coming from further inside the house. He has never seen this many melusines together in the same place. He wonders how many of them there are. 

 

"Hi, Durin," Muirne says. Serene and Elphane wave at him, while Blanthine and Menthe leave his side to join their sisters in the kitchen. 

 

Introductions take quite a while. Durin hears the names of the melusines present, but he finds it almost impossible to remember them all. He learns that the man is indeed Monsieur Neuvillette and Durin thinks he understands why the melusines seem so fond of him. Monsieur Neuvillette is a dragon, one that has a human form just like himself. Chourei did say that she and her sisters were born out of a dragon, didn't she? Then... that must mean that Monsieur Neuvillette is their parent. 

 

Durin feels almost overwhelmed by the draconic energy that is rolling off of him; it is something ancient, something powerful. Something that should be causing Durin fear, but instead makes him more curious. 

 

As he approaches Neuvillette, some of the melusines tense up and stare at him. He doesn't understand why—after all, this dragon is clearly way more powerful than Durin is. But he slowly gets closer, picking up on Neuvillette's scent and analyzing his appearance. Among the hair that Sedile is braiding, he can see two long blue horns. 

 

"Are your horns like mine?" is the first thing Durin blurts out. It leaves his mouth before he can think about it and it sounds just as excited as he feels. 

 

Neuvillette's face softens. "Mine are called rhinophores. They are for traversing the waters and sensing vibrations or any disruptions in my surroundings." His voice sounds like he would be good at telling stories. Durin enjoys stories; Albedo has read quite a lot to him. 

 

"Wow." He leans even closer, now sniffing Neuvillette's hair. It is the scent of the sea; the same scent of salt water that two weeks ago could have been the last thing Durin smelled. But it is different now. The sea is comforting, inviting. He sniffs once more and the melusine near Neuvillette's legs laughs, but he pays her no mind.

 

"You are like me!" 

 

"Indeed." 

 

Durin remembers Albedo telling him that's it's impolite to sniff people. That they will be weirded out and push him away. But nothing like that happens now—he isn't pushed away. Neuvillette simply waits patiently, with a small smile on his face. It is the first time since Durin gained a human form that he doesn't feel out of place. He finally feels like himself.

Notes:

The child distribution system has chosen Neuvillette yet again.
Also Durin thinking that Neuvillette birthed all of the melusines himself is hilarious

Notes:

Comments and kudos are very appreciated:)