𝕍𝕚𝕔𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕖 ○ 𝕂𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕠 𝔸𝕪𝕒𝕥𝕠

III. Where the Stars Do Not Shine

The dreamless land of all greets you with benign cinders and visionless leers.

━━━

You broke the window on your way out.

You smashed your window with the hilt of a sword, let the winter snow pile in, let the frozen air blow away your papers on your desk. The crows in your garden laughed with you at times back then – you can almost hear them singing now on the ship. A eulogy for the undead, an overture.

Can you mourn a person who is still living? It certainly feels like it.

Your pocketwatch ticks away, rhythmically, soft and steady – an anchor – as the Alcor lurches through the waves. You never had quite enough time. Night cloaks the ship. Without the familiar streetlights and thickets of lanterns of Liyue Harbour, even you had found it difficult to navigate the ship's deck in the dark.

A crow caws, someplace near. The waves crush all sounds of the bird's skittering feet on the wood, but when it lands on your shoulder, its claws latch tightly, but not enough to hurt.

"Hello there," you croon. Your discontent ebbs away and your eyes soften. "I haven't seen you around before."

It hops about on your outstretched arm, and settles once more on your shoulder. It finds a suitable spot, and it sits. You raise a finger to pet it, and it doesn't make a move nor sound to object, strangely. Most animals would scatter. But never the crows. 

You think back briefly to a day before, where the fireflies darted away from you but were undisturbed by Yelan – a testament to your statement.

"An ebony bird such as yourself beguiles my sad fancy into smiling, by the grave and stern decorum of the countenance you wear," you say softly, and then let out a low titter. "I know Poe wrote about a raven, not a crow, but I couldn't resist."

The crow caws, deafeningly now that it was sitting next to your ear, and it takes flight. You have a feeling it will return.

The pocketwatch snaps shut. The whirring is swallowed up by the thunderous, roiling sea.

This wasn't how it was meant to end, but you didn't have a choice.

━━━

"Inazuma's a long way from home," Beidou comments. "Even we don't frequent the land of eternity. We only do imports and exports."

"What type of stuff do you even transport?" you ask, steering the conversation topic away from what could be dangerous waters. "Surely it has to be essential material that you can't get in there?"

You join Beidou leaning on the taffrail, your pupils filling with the murky blue of the ocean. You don't get the opportunity to admire the sea very often while dispatched on assignments – you're usually too occupied studying files below deck in a pre-mission briefing. You shift the scabbard of your sword to ease the weight of it.

"Yeah, Inazuma's tight on anything international. Border security and immigration are real nightmares too. We transport rice and linen mainly. Stuff that's in really high demand, or rarer materials like region-specific ores. I've heard that Liyue's ores in particular are exceptional for swordsmithing. That's why there's a crateload of noctilucous jade on board this time. I'll pass on a note saying there were complications and a transport balloon carrying more jade got hijacked on the way. That should explain an eventual empty crate you're gonna leave behind once you're settled in Ritou."

"Cor lapis and noctilucous jade," you nod. "They're fine materials. My sword is a combination of the two. Difficult to procure, even more difficult to maintain."