Shade of Teyvat: The Rapture of Shadows

9. Unwanted Disease

The days following the blizzard and the defeat of the Bakesame were supposed to be a time of rest and celebration in Hearthglen. But just as the village began to settle back to normal, a new threat cast its shadow—a sinister illness that crept across Teyvat, sparking fear in both mortals and gods alike.

The affliction was given the name "Nyxvirus," a nod to the darkness it seemed to embody. Across the land, the symptoms were all too clear: plants withered under its touch, animals grew sick and chaotic, and infected humans fell into feverish states, chills sensasion and overwhelming fatigue. The spread of the virus brought chaos, but in an unexpected turn, the gods declared a truce. the  battles has ceased, and deities across Teyvat agreed to work together to save humanity from this plague.

Heartglen had been fortunate to evade the virus for a time, but the peace was short-lived. Despite the village lockdown, rumors spread that someone had fallen ill. Concerned whispers echoed through the streets: it was Lyra, the village herbalist and one of Viz's closest friends.

The news left a hollow ache in Viz's chest. Lyra was the heartbeat of Hearthglen's healing efforts, always prepared to treat wounds or brew medicinal teas for ailing villagers. Without her, the village felt unmoored. Worried and determined to check on her, Viz visited her modest house on the edge of the village, bringing with him some food and water.

Lyra had always been a pillar of strength for the community. Her herbs, tonics, and salves had healed countless wounds and many ailments. Now, however, she lay in her own bed, weakened and feverish, her pale face against the pillow.

Viz, who couldn't bear the thought of his friend suffering alone, made his way to her house, ignoring the concerned and warning from villagers who feared he might contract the virus. He opened the door of her house.

Inside, Viz found Lyra sitting up in bed, bundled in blankets, her usually vibrant eyes dulled. Despite her weakened state, she managed a faint smile when she saw him. "Viz," she rasped, her she greeted him, her voice hoarse but warm. "I'm sorry."

"Forget about that," Viz replied gently, pulling a chair close to her bedside. clasping her hand gently. "How did this happen, Lyra?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry. "Do you remember anything unusual before you started feeling ill?"

Lyra nodded, her gaze distant as she recalled her last trip into the forest. "I was gathering herbs, near the usual spot by the river," she murmured. "I'd just found a patch of Dandelion when... I saw it."

"What did you see?"  Viz is now more curious.

"A Ignarlos," she replied, her voice trembling. "But it wasn't like the others we've seen. Its scales... they were streaked with dark purple. Almost as if... as if they were rotting. Its eyes glowed a sickening red, and smoke—this thick, dark purple smoke—drifted from its mouth."

Viz clenched his fists, alarmed. A corrupted Ignarlos, a creature that powerful infected with Nyxvirus, posed a threat beyond any they had faced before. His mind raced, piecing together Lyra's description. If the Ignarlos was carrying the virus, it could spread the infection to other creatures, or worse, bring the sickness closer to Hearthglen. He knew he had to act fast.

As if sensing his intentions, Lyra weakly grasped his hand. "If you get infected, there's no telling what'll happen. I don't want to lose you too."

Viz gently covered her hand with his own, squeezing it reassuringly. "I know the risks, but if that thing's out there, it could bring the virus even closer to the village. I can't just let it roam free, Lyra. I promise I'll be careful."