cursed wings of grief | genshin impact x f.reader

𝐎𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐬 (𝟔)

The last Qiong Qi

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Days had blurred into an indistinguishable haze of grief and hunger. Y/N stumbled through the forest, each step heavy with sorrow, her heart weighed down by the loss of her home and people. The vibrant green that once surrounded her now felt suffocating, the whispering leaves echoing her despair. Her stomach twisted with hunger; she had not eaten properly since the attack, surviving only on foraged berries and the meager sustenance the forest offered.

She had thought she could find food easily, after all, she was born of the land, of the Qiong Qi. But the world felt foreign and hostile now. The laughter of her kin had faded into silence, replaced by the echoing cries of memory that haunted her.

With every passing day, the forest became more suffocating, and the isolation pressed down on her like a weight too heavy to bear. She longed for the comforting embrace of her family, the warmth of her mother’s voice, and the fierce protection of Zhen. But those thoughts were tinged with a bitterness that left a hollow ache in her chest.

On the third day, after a restless night spent curled beneath the roots of a great tree, Y/N made a decision. She would return to the remnants of the Qiong Qi village. Perhaps she would find other survivors, perhaps her mother and brother had escaped the carnage. The flicker of hope burned faintly in her heart, urging her to rise despite the pain that coursed through her.

As she trudged through the foliage, the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows that danced eerily amongst the trees. The familiar path wound before her, but it felt foreign now, marred by the scars of destruction and loss.

When she finally reached the clearing where her village had stood, Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The once-vibrant gathering place was now a graveyard of charred earth and broken bodies. The scent of smoke lingered in the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of blood. She stepped cautiously into the clearing, her heart pounding in her chest as she surveyed the scene.

The bodies of her people lay strewn across the ground, their wings torn from their backs, like fallen petals from once-proud flowers. The gorey sight made her stomach churn, and the air around her felt thick with sorrow and despair. Each lifeless form was a testament to the brutality of the attack.

Y/N moved through the remains of her home, calling out softly, “Is anyone there? Please, if you’re alive… just let me know.” Her voice trembled, wavering in the stillness, but no response came.

The weight of grief settled heavily upon her, each breath a struggle as she fought back tears. She dropped to her knees, the cold earth pressing against her palms as she forced herself to look around. Her heart ached as she recognized the familiar features of her kin. Faces once filled with life and laughter now reduced to hollow shells.

Then she saw them. At the edge of the clearing, near a charred tree that had once offered shade, lay the bodies of her mother and brother. Together.

“No,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. She crawled toward them, the world around her fading into a blur as her heart sank deeper with each movement.

When she reached them, she felt a deep, gut-wrenching pain as she knelt beside their still forms. Her mother, Lian, lay as if asleep, her wings splayed out behind her, the vibrant colors dulled and marred by soot and blood. Zhen lay close by, his body battered, his face serene in death.