Where in the hell did he turn up this time? For a moment there he thought himself in Mondstadt considering the manner in which the castles before him are built, but even then he can tell this isn’t that annoying city of wind. There’s something almost... fake about it. Like it should not be here in the first place. And not just this island but the other islands he’s been able to garner a glance or two in the horizons as well. These islands seemingly out of nowhere and he without a proper answer of how he ended up here in the first place. His memory does not fail him often and he could have sworn the last thing he did was slumber and then he awoke in the sands of this place with all of these... stray stone ravens that he’s been able to surmise have a life of their own. As much as he attempts to card through his memory of wanderings these islands do not even vaguely come to mind. He’s wandered many a land, before the Fatui and as one of their harbingers as well. He was their man on the field after all, there was no piece of land he’s not traversed in their stead, in their name, so he’s genuinely surprised to find that he can’t even vaguely recognize this location. He is cursed to a long life, it is a stale curse, so not many things surprise him... he’s pleasantly entertained. However there is a small prickle of worry on the back of his neck, the little hairs there raising at the silent spike of disgusting anxiety. He is a fugitive at the moment, on the run and he is on the run of individuals who allegedly have eyes everywhere.
The thought makes the ex-harbinger react subconsciously. He looks from one side, then the other, and then out to sea. No visible traces of the Fatui... at least not yet so even if these islands seduce him into relaxing he does not. He knows the Fatui have eyes everywhere, he’s one of the biggest reasons of why they do. As curious and intrigued as he may be to get familiar with these mysterious islands it isn’t something he can afford, at least not now, not until he figures out how to become one with his heart.
A voice by his side beckons his attention, to which he complies with a mere glance. It’s one of those scarfed raven statues. If he hadn’t already seen just about everything in his lifetime he would have thought he was going insane. “Speak raven.” The ex-harbinger regards.
“Aha, w-well I have a name good sir and it isn’t raven I can assure you that.” The ex-harbinger’s face spells that he does not care but the raven seems to be ever oblivious as he continues. “My name is Ask-me-for-directions-Arnold and I couldn’t help but to notice that you seem a bit lost. So, I am here to do what I do best and help you with directions!” Arnold informs the ex-harbinger and for a while there is nothing but silence between them, quiet the exchange and all the wanderer does is stare at the stone raven who seems to be growing concerned by the minute. “Pft-!” That’s until that silence between them is shattered by the ex-harbinger bringing his hand to his lips and fighting back some laughter.
“D-Did I say something that you found comical?” Arnold asks, slightly taken aback by the direction he’s garnered from the other.
“Your name,” the ex-harbinger doesn’t skip a beat, letting him know regardless of the feelings of the other. “That’s the most ridiculous name I’ve ever heard in my life.” And he’s lived quite a long life, let him tell you that. Arnold gasps. “I-I beg your pardon, there is no need for you to be rude to me, I’ve done no ill towards you to be a recipient of such harshness!” Arnold would glare if he could and this short man’s pushing it already. He will not tolerate such behavior when his intentions are good ones! The ex-harbinger sighs, mostly out of impatience, and crosses his arms over his chest. There’s no point in starting some sort of feud with a damn stone raven, dumb name or not.
“Alright, I’ll bite.” He’s not going to apologize because he meant what he said. “Where am I Arnold-?”
“Tch, tch, it’s Ask-me-for-directions-Arnold.” Arnold interjects immediately.
“...” He is half tempted to break this stone raven. “Where am I Ask-me-for-directions-Arnold?” The ex-harbinger concedes.
“Splendid question!” The wanderer fights the urge to roll his eyes. “You are graced before the mighty Immernachtreich!”
“... In your what right?” He frowns.
“Immernachtreich!” Arnold corrects firmly. “How do you not know where you are? Her royal highness must’ve invited you here the same way she has with her retainers.”
That immediately raises red flags for the fugitive. So he isn’t alone after all. “Right,” he decides to play along, “I must have missed the memo and fallen behind.” He delivers his words with a fake plastic smile. “I’ve been given... a special mission from her, uh, highness. I need to get off this island to complete said top secret mission.” He claims, to which Arnold clearly does not know any better. “Ask-me-for-directions-Arnold, you wouldn’t happen to know of a way out of here would you?”
Arnold is almost surprised. “Did you not come by boat just as her highness’ royal retainers did?”
The wanderer stares at the raven with newfound interest. So, there’s a boat around here that’s up for the taking huh? Excellent. “I had other means of getting here, but thank you for the information, that’s all I needed to know.” The ex-harbinger waves and is on his merry way to go claim said boat for himself.
“S-Sir wait, do you not wish to know where the rest of the retainers are?!” Arnold calls out to him.
“No,” he shakes his head. As long as they don’t know he’s here and is about to leave them on these islands by taking their boat that works out even better for him. “Act like you didn’t see me.”
