stranger [C. TARTAGLIA]

29

"i must say, you're one tough mouse to catch tartaglia." the sharp blade shone as her fingers caressed its edges, red liquid slowly oozing out of her pale fingers.

"how many days has it been. or perhaps it'd been weeks?" the tsaritsa asked, bringing her sword down.

childe merely scoffs, looking at the ground as he felt the pain on his head worsening. blood dripped from the side of it, his sweat covering his dirtied forehead.

"i'm surprised you even found me."

"found you?" she chuckled. "i'd say you surrendered yourself."

it had been weeks since they found your lifeless body at the location embedded on the letter the tsaritsa sent to childe. you were laying on a pool of blood, while the 8th harbinger's body was a couple of feet away from you.

there, on top of your body, was a mask. it was there next to yours, a red familiar fatui mask that belonged to the 11th.

when the guards came at the scene childe was no longer there, only a trail of blood that vanished into the woods was what remained.

"i know you've been doing some research behind my back." she says, inching towards the harbinger who sat in the middle of the room while his hands were tied behind a chair.

"the ceremony." he starts, voice strained. "it was all for your own selfishness."

"my, you've discovered its purpose haven't you?" she chuckles. "i'm impressed you found out so quickly."

"experimenting on [Y/N], turning her into some sort of tool all for the sole purpose of transferring the title of the cryo archon to her."

childe couldn't dare look at her directly in the eyes. he was furious, in rage of what he found out.

"sneaking into the palace was a death wish, especially since you were a wanted man." the tsaritsa says. "you came here just to know the truth? why? your beloved [Y/N] is dead."

"she treated you like you were her mother!"

"and i treated her like she was my own." she replied, "i raised her, feeded her, gave her somewhere to sleep did i not?"

the man balled his fists in anger, "you-"

"now that you know the truth about all of this, what's your plan now? avenge her?"

childe was lost. from the moment he knew he wasn't about to die even as you laid there in his lap, he didn't know what else to do.

his loyalty for the tsaritsa, gone just like that. he no longer knew his purpose, what else could he have done? battle? what for? he doubt even that could bring his purpose back.

he left his mask behind, a sign that he quits as one of the harbingers.

it pained him to let you go, it pained him when he remembers how you slowly turned cold underneath him.

childe hid for days, treating his wound as he camped at the woods so he wouldn't get caught. he was wanted for not fulfilling his mission, that was the mission to stop you if you ever went out of control.

but he did, didn't he? he killed you with his own hands, with the shard of ice you created on your own.

but no one ever knew of this. perhaps they thought scaramouche and you had both killed each other in battle, not even aware that childe was at the scene.

he could explain himself, tell the tsaritsa that he actually killed you. he fulfilled his duty as a harbinger, he could be free. but he couldn't. he didn't want to openly admit he actually killed you, heck he couldn't even sleep just remembering what he did.