“…Sohreh was his first friend, and the first person who understood him, who did not call Zandik a monster…
Then tragedy struck, and Zandik became lonely once again. Bad things happen… After his exile, he wandered across Teyvat in search of those who might accept him. One hundred, two hundred, four hundred years passed… Loneliness followed him like a curse. Was it possible that his knowledge was the vice and tragedy of his life? Perhaps if he had been like the others, more simple-minded, he could have hidden his interests better, and there would have been no problems? Who could know…
The Doctor spent a long time pondering the secrets of friendship. What exactly was it that made a person a friend?
Dottore stood on the balcony of the Fatui palace in Snezhnaya. The weather was clear; sunlight reflected off the snow lying on every surface, making everything sparkle and shimmer with mysterious shades of winter. He didn’t even notice when a golden-haired girl, like a ray of sunshine, appeared within his field of view. Could it be the Traveler?
Omega had spoken about an uncultured, completely reckless foreigner (though perhaps she wasn’t exactly as the clone described—maybe the girl had simply been unlucky enough to collide with Omega’s swollen and fragile ego). Dottore had heard of… what was her name… Lumine. Yes, he had heard about Lumine from his colleagues. Truly an astonishing person—especially her friends.
Amazingly, she even befriends Archons. It wouldn’t be surprising if the cold and taciturn Tsaritsa herself suddenly changed completely and began chattering endlessly upon meeting her…
…Dottore could not deny that envy had awakened in his cold heart. All those pleasant, friendly conversations over a cup of warm tea… it made him want to smash that annoying tea set to pieces…
He, too, wanted to try the new tea that Signora had brought, to chat about mechanisms with Sandrone, to simply talk about battles with Tartaglia… but he was not allowed such things. Long ago he had forbidden himself from feeling anything at all… it was simply easier that way.
Easier? No. It only weighed down his heart, leaving him with a sense of being lost in this world, of not belonging…
…The Doctor wanted to try this magical pill called friendship—to taste the flavor of conversation, to let warmth into his heart. He thought he had long ago cut off the roots of such thoughts, yet now, standing on the balcony, they grew with every passing second, and a fire ignited in his chest…
Yes, he was the Doctor, the Second Harbinger of the Fatui—the brains of this damned organization! He had never allowed himself to make mistakes; it had never happened!
The Doctor searched for a compromise—there had to be a way, a solution. And yes, there was. If the Traveler was truly so forgiving, he could open up a little… gradually. Studying the boundaries, watching her reactions, observing. It would be a special experiment.
The Doctor pulled himself together and returned to his office to put it in order. He would not impose himself like some fanatic (after all, he had to live up to his title as the Second Harbinger).
He would wait for the right moments to meet her.”
