𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓.
one. - two.
║▌│█║▌│ █║▌│█│║▌║
𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙤𝙙𝙚...
⌜ Standing in the yard, dressed like a kid The house is white and the lawn is dead The lawn is dead, the lawn is dead ⌝
!! WARNINGS !
Character death. Murder
——————♡——————
In which a young Archon is
taken away from their home.
——————♡——————
𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐞𝐲𝐯𝐚𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 seven regions as a result of the devastating and vicious archon war. Mondstadt, Liyue, Inazuma, Fontaine, Natlan, Snezhnaya, and Sumeru respectively.
These nations were all one of a kind, led by gods who emerged victorious from the harsh battles that had taken place over two thousand years ago. The gods were each assigned one of their own elements that their regions would be recognized for, the terrain always matching that element as if it were destined to be. The large rocky mountains of the geo region and the steep cliffs to glide off from in Mondstadt were just two prime examples of that almost pre-determined fate.
All of these regions had their own major cities and leaders that made sure everything was kept in order, the archons assigned to each city usually working behind the scenes, or in some cases completely absent from their reign. On the other hand, there were some regions where their archon was actively involved with their people, a prime example of that being the archon who ruled over the Natlan region.
The Archon of Natlan was a beautiful woman, but all of Teyvat knew not to let that beauty fool you. She was notorious for being harsh and cold despite the warmth she gave out, hence her nicknames such as the “god of war” and “lady of fire” arose from her cruel participation in the archon war.
Murata was her name, the name itself invoking fear in any outsider. The insiders, or the people that actually lived in Natlan on the other hand, would beg to differ that she was scary. Murata was always considerate of her people, they being the top priority over anything She would go to any lengths, wage as many wars - and fight as many battles as long as it meant her people were free and happy.
However, she knew this wasn’t a scenario that was ideal, so she had adapted the ways of fighting into the people who lived in her region. so that they could defend themselves and protect those around them, That was where her whole ‘cruel’ legacy rose from, although the children of Murata would beg to differ.
She recognizes that war is unavoidable, in fact she would be the first to tell anyone that— but she really wanted to avoid any conflict at any cost for the time being.
Murata, notorious for her use of violence, for whatever reason was reluctant to engage in any. It’s not like she craved violence as if she couldn’t resist it, she just always had a responsibility to take care of her people. even if that meant picking up arms and retaliating against any force that threatened their security, for which there were lots of times when that retaliation was needed.
Back then, Murata had known her demise would come, but she hadn’t known just how soon it would be..
She had looked at the child with her usual stoic and hardened features, a result of her resolve she had set in her earlier days so that her conviction to protect her people would remain. She had always given that uncaring look to everyone no matter who they were, although as she had stared at the child in front of her, she hadn’t known how her usually cold eyes betrayed her, and softened with a look of fondness.
She hadn't conceived this child nor any other for that matter, yet she referred to every inhabitant of Natlan as her own children, this one in particular the closest to her. In all her years, Murata had never once considered the fact she would take in a child for the reason she did, and yet here they sat, silently drawing colored circles on a pink tinted parchment.
So why had Murata, — the god of war, the lady of fire, — take in a child in the first place?
It was a result of the tensions that were arising between the nations of Natlan and Snezhnaya. The Tsaritsa, a once gentle and kind soul had been forced to harden herself, while on the other hand, Murata, the violent and tempered war god had softened.
War would soon again break out, and Murata desperately didn’t want to involve the child they had taken in, even though the upcoming war was the very reason she had offered them a place to stay.
The child softly smiled to themself as they continued to draw, Murata watching in disinterest, though she never took her eyes off them as she knew one day her eyes would never be able to absorb their image again.
This was back when today's Archon was at the mere age of eight, unknowing to what the future held with such an innocent mentality that war was a thing in the past. [ Name ], the child Murata had brought in, berated themself into thinking they should have known better than to be that oblivious, but one cannot simply change the past no matter what alternatives they could imagine.
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The land devastated by fiery valleys and acidic trenches was a place [ Name ] could call home. It was where volcanoes erupted, fiery creatures inhabited, and their family resided in. It was all something that [ Name ] would never want to give up.
At this point, [ Name ] was now twelve. They had become more aware of the tensions and political views, along with what was going on in the world of Teyvat, though they were still conflicted on their predetermined fate at the time.
One day, Murata had told [ Name ] that they would be her predecessor when she died. [ Name ] hadn’t understood what had sprung such an outlandish offer... but to become an archon, to rule over all of Natlan and guide its people, was such an overwhelming and huge responsibility they weren’t sure they could handle.
And yet, apparently that was their whole purpose in life.
Through all their twelve years of being alive, [ Name ] had been secluded from others aside from Murata herself and their teacher who trained them better in the way of picking up a weapon. They had thought it was normal for children to wield arms from the moment they could form proper sentences, and in that seclusion Murata had forced them into, [ Name ] had developed a loneliness and a yearning for companionship.
[ Name ] had only recently turned twelve when they first created life from fire. They had always been granted a pyro vision to wield, but they only used it to infuse it with the polearm and bow they had trained with.
Due to Murata’s negligence to [ Name ]’s mental well-being, she hadn’t accounted for the fact that they were lonely. [ Name ] would sneak off to the library on quiet nights, and without Murata’s knowledge, they would use their vision accompanied with a catalyst of sorts to create friends.
[ Name ] would talk about their day, and even though the small pyre wisps couldn’t respond, they still chirped happily, which was enough for [ Name ].
Murata was unaware all of this was going on behind her back, and if she knew, she would have been incredibly proud. All Murata knew was that [ Name ] was efficient with the ways of a polearm and bow, but never had she considered the use of a catalyst in battle.
But [ Name ] was unaware of this fact themself. They never thought of using their little friends or a special book as a weapon, they only thought of it as something that made them happy—not something to fight a battle with or win a war.
The first interaction with one of the pyre wisps was when a small pink flame had emerged from the pages that night, big round eyes staring and blinking repeatedly at its creator. [ Name ] had never been so happy in their life to finally make a friend, so they had reached their hands out to hold the pink flame, but in that moment they had neglected to realize it was a living flame, and yet they had touched it with their bare hands.
It wasn’t painful, but rather warm and comforting.
Pyro, an element used to take lives, burn it to ashes, and deny any form of life ever existing, was now creating those lives it was destined to take by the future Archon.
——————♡——————
[ Name ] was sixteen when Murata was killed.
And [ Name ] is currently sixteen. They grieved along with the other ‘children of Murata’, devastated at the sudden development of her leaving so soon. It was far earlier than what [ Name ] had expected, since she had told them of their un-preventable demise, but none of the citizens of Natlan were aware it would happen.
A contract had been fulfilled, and Murata’s gnosis was now fused with [ Name ], to the Tsaritsa’s confusion. They were not aware of a third party, and the gnosis was deemed missing since they were not aware of [ Name ]’s existence thanks to Murata’s seclusion of them.
None of that confusion no longer mattered, as [ Name ] had a duty to fulfil. They were supposed to jump right on to continue that two thousand year old responsibility at the notice of Murata’s demise... and yet they couldn’t. They just couldn’t find it within them to take responsibility just right away because of the overwhelming realization, and so they spoiled themself with one day of freedom before they decided to take rule and responsibility as the new Pyro Archon.
“Murata, what should I do?”
[ Name ] was lost, and with no more guidance, they had to do everything for themself. They were briefed on how their rule would work, but they had never thought the moment would come so soon. They sat in front of piled stones, flaming orchids placed around it since Murata was always fond of that bright and powerful flower.
Murata was also always fond of [ Name ], though they were never aware of that. They simply thought they were a tool in Murata’s eyes, since that unwavering uncaring and cold look never left her face, but they failed to realize just how much they had softened the woman’s heart.
Murata had grown rather fond of [ Name ], even if she never verbally stated so. They carried traits similar to her own, and yet they had their own uniqueness that made them an individual.
And so when the day had come, when Murata was slain despite her reputation of fierceness, she let her stoic features morph into a frown, knowing she would never be able to see [ Name ] succeed her.
In her final moments, the only regret Murata had was not being able to give [ Name ] a proper childhood like other kids their age, and throwing such a big responsibility on them where she could not be by their side to guide them.
It was still hard to believe, [ Name ] was now an archon and ruled over a whole nation, and yet it just felt like any other day with the exception of Murata not being by their side.
They had sat there the whole day in front of Murata’s grave, reliving memories while their pyro spirits, Himeko, Mitsuki, and Homura comforted them the whole time. They were odd creatures that [ Name ] couldn’t understand, but [ Name ] knew they were created to protect them and to be their friend from the moment they came to fruition four years ago.
Himeko was a lovely colored flame, a delicate pink that flickered with affection and had large doe eyes. Mitsuki was the hottest of the three flames, its blue giving a cold look, but it could sear anything to ash if it so willed it. Lastly, Homura who burned the brightest of the three flames, was a marvelous shade of purple, a beautiful color that lured in any who dared to try and touch it, which would only resort in charred fingers.
[ Name ] on the other hand, was able to interact with these fire spirits without their flames harming them in the slightest, so they would often sit in the palm of their cupped hands and give a strange comfort, which made and helped [ Name ] get through the loneliness they grew up with.
[ Name ] decided that the next day, they would announce their presence in the major city of Natlan, and hopefully be recognized as its new archon without bringing shame upon Murata’s name as to continue her legacy.
As [ Name ] thought that, something unexpected happened.
A tear in space and time had appeared right below their meditative state, [ Name ] not reacting quick enough — before they were pulled into the abyss, an abyss not known to the one of Teyvat, but one that intermingled between worlds, universes.
