The guilt…
It festers within me, a sorrow deeper than I ever believed possible.
Closing his eyes, he felt it.
Her death echoed in my ears— sacrificing herself to the waters… but now is not the time for mourning.
He opened his eyes, burning with fury.
Khaenri'ah shall be punished.
The Archons have delayed long enough..
The hour of judgment can wait no longer.
By decree, the Heavenly Principles
Order the eradication of their nation.
The skies quaked, and every living Archon turned their gaze upward—
A colossal paw tore through the heavens, crashing into the ocean's depths.
The sea churned violently as an immense figure—larger than any mountain—rose above the horizon.
The skies bled red.
The Ruler of Death had arrived,
She watch from above waiting to cast a curse of immortality—
a punishment.
Teyvat trembled as the great wolf drew near.
his glowing green eyes burning with divine wrath.
Then, without mercy,
he opened his jaw, unleashing a devastating beam of chaotic energy,
ripping through the region with apocalyptic force…
To this day, the pain of losing his fallen friend lingered—perhaps she had meant more to him than he ever admitted. His heart ached at the thought.
And then there was the one she left behind—her successor, Focalors—he knew all too well.
Egeria had introduced them long ago—on a day now a distant memory. Though she now remains hidden from the world, he continues to look the other way, just as he once promised he would.
Even now, though they sleep, she must continue the charade.
"Lady Furina, I sense your pain, and I commend your strength. But know this—your performance is not in vain."
"Lord Fen, what are your intentions regarding the mortal soul?" Alfred inquired softly.
Fen set down his fork and calmly wiped the remnants of his meal from his face.
"Well, you see, it's mostly curiosity. That mortal soul poses no threat, but it does beg the question—how did he end up here, of all places?"
Fen signaled the waiter for the check.
"Oh, and Alfred," he added with a faint smile, "refrain from calling me 'lord.' I'm just a simple friend enjoying a night out at a stunning hotel."
The waiter gave a polite nod and stepped away to retrieve the bill.
"My apologies, Fen," Alfred said, bowing slightly. "Then… Do you intend to speak with him?"
"Eventually, yes. But for now, I'm watching from afar. Quite frankly, it seems this world is slowly beginning to accept him. He even received a Vision. Impressive, I must say."
The waiter soon returned, and Fen paid, leaving a generous tip. Rising slowly, he adjusted his tie.
"Now then, Alfred, I believe it's time we took our leave. I've overstayed my welcome… Fatui seems uneasy with my presence here."
I do wonder," he shrugged. "Surely, they're not up to something foolish.
—————
Lucien and Callas walked in silence beneath the moonlight, slowly making their way toward the residential district. But as they turned a corner, something felt… off—an unmistakable sensation of being watched.
He glanced over his shoulder.
The streets—quiet, only a few young couples strolled by, their hands gently entwined.
With Nothing out of place, Lucien shook off the unease and kept walking, forcing his thoughts elsewhere.
He tried to focus on something positive, forcing away the thought of Callas dying.
Wait…
Why was he even entertaining the idea of accepting it?
There had to be a way to cure him.
But he had nothing—nothing-no leads, no one to turn to.
Damn it!
Lucien clenched his fists, frustration tightening in his chest.
Callas noticed his frustration.
"Lucien," he said gently, "don't beat yourself up over this. I've accepted it… and you should too."
Lucien's fist slowly unclenched as he gave a small nod… yet the feeling lingered.
After a few moments of walking, they arrived—outside Standing, Callas hesitated—his hand froze just as he reached for the door, weighed down by the guilt of leaving his daughter uninformed about his illness.
With a sigh, Callas's face broke into a smile as he pushed open the door to his humble house, his voice booming with cheer.
"I'm home!"
The warm, sweet aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air.
"Papa! You're home! Dinner's almost ready!" came a cheerful voice.
A blonde-haired girl peeked around the corner, her wide blue eyes sparkling with surprise.
"Lucien?!" she gasped, nearly dropping the spatula in her hand.
She wore a simple apron over her plain clothes, "I… I didn't expect you'd be here."
Lucien offered a sheepish smile. "Well, your father invited me over. And… lots happened today."
"Wait, you finally joined Maison Gardiennage?" she asked, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.
"Yes—and I got promoted the same day."
Lucien paused, sniffing the air. "Hey… is something burning?"
"Oh my Archon!" Navia yelped, dashing toward the kitchen.
Callas chuckled, easing into a chair at the dinner table, with Lucien following close behind.
He still remembered the day his master introduced them—Clorinde had been hiding behind her, unsure of how to interact with other children. It had been an amusing sight, but over time, she and Navia had grown into close friends.
As for him, he had done his best to keep his distance from Navia. But in the end, it was futile—his sister always dragged him along to their tea parties.
"Tell me, Lucien," Navia said with a gentle smile, returning to the room with a dish in hand—placing it carefully on the table. "Was Clorinde also promoted?"
Callas chuckled, draping an arm proudly over Lucien's shoulder. "Oh, both of them, of course. The youngest ever to rise through the ranks. Clorinde, now a Champion Duelist—and this one here, our newly appointed Sergeant. I'm so proud of them ."
Lucien felt a warmth in his chest.
He wanted to cry—something he couldn't do earlier, not when his mind was clouded and heavy.
Now, with the weight slowly lifting and those words echoing in his heart, he realized how much he needed to hear them. He wasn't a failure.
He closed his eyes, trying to steady himself. A moment later, he felt Navia's hand gently rest atop his own.
"Lucien… are you alright?" she asked softly.
"I am," he replied, opening his eyes. "I was just wondering what Master would think."
Callas cleared his throat deliberately, and Navia's face flushed pink, quickly withdrawing her hand.
Lucien wasn't naïve, one of many reasons the tea party was awkward.
Now thinking about it, this was what Callas meant by a blessing…
He was never particularly keen on relationships—and now, he was about the same age he had died in a past life.
Even now… he wasn't sure he truly understood what love is.
Still, now wasn't the time to dwell on such things.
Lucien looked at Navia. "Have you noticed anything… off lately?"
"Off?" Navia echoed, tilting her head. "Well, no—aside from the rising water levels. I haven't noticed anything strange. Oh—wait. I sensed something earlier, a strong presence while I was passing by the Hotel Debord."
So, she felt it too. Lucien tapped his foot against the floor, mind racing.
That blade… It had a wolf symbol on it. I should've looked into it more, but I was too focused on finishing that report.
Navia watched him closely. "You seem deep in thought. Still thinking about what happened?"
Lucien blinked, then relaxed slightly. "Right. The attack on Lady Furina."
Navia leaned forward, curiosity lighting up her expression. "What exactly happened?"
Lucien gave her a brief summary of the incident.
"To think," she murmured when he finished, "people would be foolish enough to attack a god…"
Callas crossed his arms. "You know, with all this talking, the food's going to get cold."
"Right," Lucien replied with a small smile, and they all began to dig in—sharing stories and laughter that filled the home with a comforting warmth.
As the evening wore on and the hour grew late, Callas excused himself for the night, leaving Navia and Lucien to tidy up the table.
"Lucien," Navia called out to him in a soft tone.
He turned, raising an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"It's my father… Is everything alright? He seems… different."
Lucien hesitated. Great, he thought. The moment of truth,
Lie.
"Yes," he replied gently. "Probably just the weight of everything that happened today. It's not every day the Archon is attacked."
Navia lowered her gaze and nodded. "Yes… that much is true."
——-
Clorinde walked slowly down the marble halls of the Palais Mermonia, dressed in formal attire befitting her new position. Her heels echoed softly against the polished floor as she ascended toward Lady Furina's chambers on the upper level.
Just before she reached the door, she paused—there was the faint sound of a soft sob from within. Concern flickered in her eyes, but she composed herself and knocked gently.
"Wh… who is it?"
"Lady Furina, it's Clorinde," she answered calmly. "I've been appointed as your new guard."
There was a brief silence, followed by the click of the door unlocking. It swung open slowly.
"Ah… Clorinde. Yes, come in, my dear subject," Furina said, attempting a regal tone, though her voice still trembled.
Clorinde stepped inside and immediately noticed that Lady Furina wasn't in her usual extravagant attire. Instead, she wore a simple nightgown, looking more like an ordinary young woman than the divine figure the public knew.
"I'll be going to sleep soon," Furina said softly. "If you need rest, you may request someone else to take your post."
Clorinde offered a respectful nod. "Your safety is my highest priority, my lady. There's no need to worry about me. Two guards will be stationed outside your chamber, and I'll remain close by should you need anything."
With Clorinde now standing watch, a quiet sense of relief washed over Furina. As fatigue settled in, she climbed into bed, clutching a small stuffed animal to her chest. She held it tightly, willing herself into sleep—doing her best not to let the tears fall.