NOCTURN BRIDE • genshin Impact | ✓

CHAPTER NINE.

her head was held low but eyes kept high. looking for her one and only, beloved tyrant — archon of wind and freedom — oh, dearest barbatos.

she knew that he was waiting for her. each second, he would crave for her touch, her breath. he craved for her existence. but, alas! an unfortunate tale indeed, when the poor apostle fell out of love.

then again, she wasn't one at fault. what was love? a mere helpless illusion that people assumed as affection and craving — it seemed for fitted to be lust.

the apostle glided along the strums of the wind, before making her way back under windrise. a lovely tree, where their friendship first blossomed, as well as deteriorated.

"dearest star!" suddenly, she felt an embrace that came from her back with the scent of fresh mint, accompanied the an undertone of wine and honey. "you came back..."

the apostle couldn't help but smile. ah, her tyrant was finally taking form — a god that helplessly fell into her world, a non-existent paradise that she crafted from hand with two mere tools; emotions and attachment. a talented blacksmith and alchemist, but perhaps in the wrong aspect — manipulating a god.

then again, what was the world without thrill?

"hm? of course i'd come back for you." the apostle's fingertips intertwined with the loveless fool fingers. interlocked in a position where his breathed warmth air collided against her fair skin, a humid and ticklish sensation that disturbed the apostle. "i've came back for you, remember?"

alas, whispering those sweet lies once again.

"you... you don't hate me?" his embrace tightened around the apostle's chest — she couldn't leave, she couldn't leave, she couldn't leave him — she was his, he was hers. him and her; in his world, there was only them. "after i left you thinking you were dead-"

"of course." an almost immediate answer spewed out from the apostle's lips. it was as if he was asking an absurd question. would she hate someone who left her to die? of course she would; she wasn't an angel that forgave others, nor was she an archon that guided her people. "i detest you. i hate you with my whole soul."

and this, was the piety apostle's specialty. an area she was extremely adept within. although it doesn't follow the common rules of etiquette; she was absolutely proficient in manipulating ones behaviour. guilt tripping, gaslighting — a sort of authoritative power when it came to words rather than emotions. with the poor archon's vulnerable state of fragility, it was a sought opportunity to create an imbalance within power.

it held privileges as well as benefitting factors.

"did you really expect me to forgive you after all of that?"

slowly disempower him — make him feel absolutely helpless, make the nights seemingly never end — drowning in a never ending sense of despair.

watch him sink drown into the never ending abyss of darkness that seeped his ardour. before he reaches deaths door of insanity, she would portray herself as his saviour.

a ray of hope that would fulfil his desperate yearnings

"but, that's why i came back." the piety apostle continued on, tugging a serene smile. her voice almost as timid as a whisper, she leant back as she whispered into his ears. "because i want to forgive you."

she wanted him to beg for her forgiveness.

a toxic behaviour, traumatising indeed. then again, who was she to blame? everyone had their own tragic backstories to tell, a voice to be heard, a thought to share — which leads to different coping mechanisms; regardless of being kind, affectionate, a playful jest, or even an magical behaviour.

an the poor apostle, had multiple coping strategies ever since her miraculous birth. she was cunning, she was manipulative, she held masks that no one could see; multiple personas of traits.

she liked to socially influence ones own behaviours with her skilful control of words to exploit her own selfish desires — but who wasn't selfish?

"you would forgive me...?" venti's voice trembled, at the verge of croaking tears. he buried his head onto her shoulders, embracing her false warmth; a delusional sense of love. "would you really forgive me... after all i've done?"

ah, she was enjoying her dearest marionette.

"barbatos." the apostle's ethereal voice let out a clear projection that rung through his ears. his name — called out by the presence of his dearest, his god, his religion that he dared not defy — so sweet, so heavenly; he wanted more. "have i ever lied to you?"

in fact, she has. plenty of times.

however, in his current state, even the god of freedom couldn't think rationally. he was restricted by chains and shackles of guilt that tore him apart.

"no."

the apostle caressed his head, humming along a short lullaby. letting out an inaudible sigh, her moonlit eyes glanced at the direction of her devotee.

maybe, she could end it with a little bit of anguish.

"i love you, barbatos."

after all, she loved his name, not his soul.

━━━━

( CHAPTER IX )