My Dear Friend | Chilumi

A Summer in Snezhnaya

The thick snow adorning the country of ice had finally melted after months of deadly cold temperatures. The short, but long-awaited summer was finally here, and Tartaglia enjoyed every second of the beautiful season of his home country. Sure, the air here was not as hot as the one in Mondstat or Liuye, but for Snezhnayans, it was as good as it gets. Childe was playing outside with his siblings, having chucked his usual outfit for a pair of linen trousers and a blouse. Perfect for a nice day outside with the family. The kids were the happiest, finally being able to touch fresh grass while their big brother taught them sparring techniques with wooden swords and using old hay dummies that Pulcinella had gifted the family many winters ago. He thought they were so adorable trying to be like their big brother.

If only they could know what he actually fought against. They were only children, after all, the agenda of the tsaritsa was not up to them and shouldn't be. He knew they should be left alone to be children for as long as they could, to dream,to love,to play. Everything he couldn't do himself as a child. Ah, but they will find out eventually the horrors of life and death, the pain this world brings to one's soul, and it will either make them stronger or destroy them. Until then, they would keep playing with sticks in the backyard with their toy-selling big brother and make the most of their innocence.
Unfortunately, as much as he loved to indulge in his family, this was no vacation. The sun was at its highest. Duty calls, as they say. He changed into his usual attire and bid farewell to his siblings for the rest of the day until he could be back for dinner in the late evening.

"Hope you sell a lot of toys!" Yelled the youngest boy.

The Harbinger waved and continued on. The job today wasn't very demanding or peculiarly special, all he had to do was check up on the troops being sent out of the country, make sure their training was adequate and that everything was in order and he could be on his merry way. Again, nothing out of the ordinary. So why did he feel so uneasy? Why was doing his job so unsettling these days? Why was she the main focus of his life, when it should be his job, his loyalties, his destiny? His destiny. He didn't even know what that meant to him anymore. Was it Meaningless? No, it was only confused, he would find his way eventually. He would stop thinking about her eventually. He let himself be vulnerable, too vulnerable last time. It was a mistake. But it didn't feel like one. She listened, she cared.
Ugh. It could only be a ruse, it must be.
He didn't think people would actually care about him being anything other than a solider. He remembered what he did to her when she pushed his limits, how close he was to killing her. The desperation in her eyes, her silent plea. He would have done it, but he didn't. He couldn't fathom her death. He couldn't imagine living without her in his world. He shivered, it was not cold, no. He just scared himself sometimes. Then he went and opened up about himself, what made him weak, who made him weak. He couldn't believe that she was willing to understand him, to discover him. The way she ran to him in the sand that day, how they collided, how they touched. And her dress, oh that damned summer dress.
She'll save you.
No, she'll ruin you.

Enough, he thought. No one that isn't the tsaritsa can have a grip on him like that. The safe words, that's what he needed. To remind himself, put him back in place, and glue the shattered pieces of his mind.

Nothing would break his will to fulfill her Majesty's grand plan. No one would make him weak. He was the 11th harbinger. A soldier forged in the abyss. A weapon of war. His only goal was to bring chaos to this world and bring order through the tsaritsa's will. His only happiness was found in combat.

Again.

Nothing would break his will to fulfill her Majesty's grand plan. No one would make him weak. He was the 11th harbinger. A soldier forged in the abyss. A weapon of war. His only goal was to bring chaos to this world and bring order through the tsaritsa's will. His only happiness was found in combat.

Again.

Nothing would break his will to fulfill her Majesty's grand plan. No one would make him weak. He was the 11th harbinger. A soldier forged in the abyss. A weapon of war. His only goal was to bring chaos to this world and bring order through the tsaritsa's will. His only happiness was found in combat.

The more that you lie to yourself, the more it hurts when you inevitably destroy yourself.

He was terrible at making himself feel better. He sighed aloud. He was only halfway to his destination. He had time to keep pondering away.

What was he thinking, lying to the other harbingers, trying to make the balladeer's plan work? It didn't feel like it would work. Taunt the other gods with power, look like a rogue, get what you need and come back. That's the plan. The more he thought about it, the more stupid it felt. Plus, trusting that little rat was like playing with fire. He should have just taken the electro Gnosis while he could and given it back, as per the initial plan. But nothing ever goes as planned, does it? He hated his face even more now that he understood how he played with the lives of aspiring soldiers, how he played with her life. He would slash his body in two if he could see him. But he went awol, just like they had planned. He wasn't in any position to find him soon. The little scum was even more unpredictable than him anyway, as far as he knew, Scara could turn on him any second. It would only be an excuse to end his life anyway.

After a long hour of tormenting himself on the way, he finally arrived at the troops.
Good, I can blow off some steam, he thought as he saw the soldier he needed to make sure were battlefield ready.
He questioned them, drilled them, went over their objectives with them and finally he challenged them to fights. Their last test before departure. It would be a piece of cake to defeat them obviously, and he had to hold back so he wouldn't kill them, but it would be better than nothing. He took them all at once, aiding himself of his vision and mastery of sword arts, he took them all down fairly easily, even though they put up a good fight. For ordinary soldiers, they were ready to leave the motherland. He had hoped this day would put his mind at rest. But he still couldn't be at ease, the itch to fight on his brain was still very intense. He knew that the only person who could clear his mind was far, far away from here, and he couldn't wait for their next encounter.