This post has all chapters, read chapters individually -> masterlist, ao3
cw: gender neutral reader, vague Pantalone x reader, vague Dottolone, dead dove, heavy angst, power imbalance, physical + emotional abuse, punishment, suicide attempt, physical disability (immobilization), PTSD, past trauma, isolation, size difference, face slapping, choking, manhandling, slow burn, childhood friends, Pierro is so done, Sandrone mentioned, Sandrone is cool.
Could he stop his favorite angel from turning into a seelie in time?
Zandik barely used the dorm provided by the Akademiya anymore, even the bullies stopped looking for him in the halls. The little patch of grassland next to the river in the Devantaka mountain replaced his creaky bed. One of the main reasons for him to speed here after class everyday was to study the khaenri'ah machines scattered around.
For the first time ever, someone actually took the initiative to approach him with good intentions. It baffled Zandik why you were willing to assist him in his research secretly, assembling the ruin guard when he wasn't looking or the missing parts seemed to find themselves. Not to mention when he finally caught you red handed two months ago, your only answer was to cheer him up since he was the “grumpiest” one you saw in the research team. The most perplexing part, one he was still trying to figure out, was your advanced knowledge about these ruins. You claimed to simply be a “rebellious kid who fled home” and the Devantaka mountain just happened to be your favorite camp spot. A laughable attempt at lying. Zandik even considered teaching you to lie better after finding out what all this really meant. Nonetheless, he decided to play along for the time being.
It was the middle of the night when Zandik jolted awake. The mountain was quiet, saved for the cricket chirps and his ragged breathing. Glancing at you from the corner of his eyes, you were still sound in your sleeping bag, fireflies hovering above your face. He shooed them off before getting out of his own sleeping bag. Walking past the extinguished camp fire and messy study notes, Zandik reached the river. The full moon’s reflection stared back at him. He sat down and replayed the dream in his head. The nightmares were getting worse and worse despite him not encountering anything dramatic recently. He was sure you could do something about it, given your wide range of knowledge on just about anything. But then again, why expose his weakness?
His train of thought was cut off by the sound of grass rustling from behind.
“Nightmares are to be taken seriously, you know?”
You settled down next to him, extending your legs to dip them into the water. He just ignored you and kept staring at the moon’s reflection. It was slightly distorted due to the ripples. You kept on talking anyways. His unresponsiveness was nothing new.
“You should have told me earlier. I have some herbs for it.”
Zandik muttered under his breath.
“Just some stupid dream anyways.”
To his surprise, you reacted strongly to the non-committal answer. An accusing finger pointed at his face.This pose usually indicated you were about to go on a ramble and he was prepared for it, a bit excited for the new knowledge. His subtle little smirk went unnoticed.
“You should know, many important prophecies were told through dreams, either implanted by the angels or the heavenly principle at the time. They are also deeply connected to one’s fate as they are a medium to interact with Irminsul.”
“So, whatever bad things you dreamt of, absolutely look out for them in the future.”
Giving the water a kick one last time, you stood up and looked down at him.
“I’m gonna go make you some medicine. Be a good one and don’t you dare ditch like last time.”
The thought of returning to the sleeping bag made his skin crawl, so he lied about wanting to sit by the river until the medicine kicked in. Not that Zandik was having so many nightmares that the sight alone haunted him. You did not need to know that.
“Hm, that's the Capricorn.”
Your finger pointed at the starlit sky. Zandik tilted his head a bit, trying to see the constellation.
“I see it. Alright, you win.”
“Cool! That means you’ll have to hold up your end of the deal.”
He let out a sign, still looking at the stars.
“Yeah, fine. We’ll go to the Akademiya tomorrow after my class ends.”
He didn't expect to lose the game this soon. Constellation spotting was a simple game you made up back when you got your ankle sprained, and the nightly exploration was cancelled for the day. Chasing after a shroomboar because it stole your bread mid dinner wasn't your brightest idea.
Something landed on his shoulder. Tearing his gaze away from the sky, he was met with the sight of your closed eyes. Despite not taking the sleeping medicine, you had fallen asleep before him. Zandik could feel the medicine starting to kick in too. The stars became blurry and the familiar droopy feeling urged him to lie down. With a hand holding your head in place, Zandik pulled the both of you down, hitting the grass with a soft thud. When his eyes closed, he hoped your lifeless eyes wouldn't stare back at him in his dream anymore.
It was too late to realize he could get expelled for this. The Akademiya handbook explicitly stated that smuggling a non-scholar into their facilities was considered a serious security breach. But you were already standing in front of the House of Daena’s main entrance. You looked ridiculous in his uniform. The sleeves were comically long, covering past your hands. Only his hat (he did not let you borrow this) fit perfectly fine on your head, everything else almost brought a laugh out of him. Although, this made him a bit conscious about his uncomfortable height.
His hand gripped your shoulder while you browsed the enormous collection of books. Zandik let go of you once and you managed to get into a fight over a book with a senior. Thankfully, you found a new fixation on the ancient Teyvat book section. Temporary peace was achieved for now.
He leaned against the tall shelves, trying his best to ignore the occasional stares from scholars passing by. This was the first time the notorious freak of the Akademiya was seen with a person after all. You were too occupied with the books next to him to know your ridiculous attire was also silently being judged. He felt a tug on his arm.
You simply pointed at a book on a particular high spot. He only needed to turn his body half way, reached his arm out a bit then handed it to you. Zandik managed to glance at the cover.
“ ‘Hymns of the Far North’? I never knew you were interested in folklore.”
“Well, my um… parents told me this story as a historical event.”
Instead of taking it, you wordlessly opened the book and used his hand like a holder. His eyes slightly twitched. You kept talking anyways.
“The First Angel, Koitar, was the origin of the seelies. She and the voyager formed a very deep bond. This went against the rule that angels were created to love all beings equally. And so, the angel race was punished by getting turned into seelies. Any angel who falls in love will be stripped of their mind and body.”
Zandik was silent for a moment, taking all of the information in. His other hand came up to flip a page.
“Hm, I still stand by my point about it being a folklore. There isn't much evidence to support these claims.”
He did not think you took that personally. Your expression just became oddly melancholic.
Zandik quietly applauded himself for choosing the Akademiya’s garden as the next point of interest. It was easier to avoid people as rarely anyone came here except for the gardeners on their shift. Not only that, you were very keen on plants and herbs so he was left alone to rest while you did your thing with them. Note to self after today: never agree to any of your bets from now on.
Sitting comfortably under a tree, he watched as you played around at the nearby flower bed. The scenery wasn't much different from the mountain except for the exotic species being present. Although, somehow, the vegetation was livelier than usual today. They had that lush green color Zandik had never seen before except in the Devantaka mountain. The floras seemed to sway to your movements as well. This was another weird phenomenon he had been mulling over. The botanical life in the Devantaka mountain and now this garden, was greatly improved due to your arrival. Perhaps, you were hiding a dendro vision. But then again, you did not even use it during dangerous situations nor acknowledge the phenomenon. Could it be that-
“What do you think? I did a pretty good job, huh?”
A flower crown was placed on his head. He did not notice you had come to join him under the shade. His hand quickly held the crown in place when a gush of wind passed through, threatening to blow it off. Unfortunately, your question was never answered because a gardener spotted the two of you. He shouted.
“Hey! You kids can't just pluck those flowers like that!”
Before you could think, Zandik pulled you up and started running in the opposite direction. He took back his previous self applause.
It was late afternoon by the time you two visited Pardis Dhyai, the last destination. You sprinted straight to the green house, dragging Zandik along by the hand. The paper bag containing you two’s half-eaten lunch slipped out of his hold but he caught it on time. In the past, running at this capacity could have had him at the brink of exhaustion. Spending time exploring in the mountain with you for the past two months had somewhat increased his endurance. He was not only able to control his breath but also snatched his oversized coat you were wearing and yanked you back to a halt. You got scolded just right outside the green house’s gate.
“Stop being a maniac for a second, will you?! At least finish these damn pita pockets I bought.”
Fatigue was clear in his voice. His hands gestured at the paper bag dramatically. Feeling a bit guilty, you reached in to take out your portion then hand him his.
Zandik wordlessly dragged you by the shoulder and pressed you down to sit against the gate. He followed suit with a thud. The two of you munched on as the orange hue in the sky gradually turned more purple.
“I had a lot of fun today.”
“You think I should enroll?”
“How so? I bet it's much more interesting than the mountain.”
Your pita pocket was almost finished. You scrunched the edge of the paper wrap with two fingers.
“Did you have fun today?”
Zandik fixed his gaze on your fiddling hand.
Dottore is a man of odd habits. Not many people know of them and they do not fit in any standard human behaviors. One such widely rumored is his impulse to visit the national garden in the dead of the night. Tonight is no different.
The garden used to be the Fatui’s private property until being gifted to the public by the Tsaritsa. It was a most unexpected gift, as the people did not know Sumeru botanic life could grow here. From the Nilotpala Lotus of the Devantaka mountain to the Viparyas, the frost somehow never reaches the land but the moon always shines the brightest there.
In the middle of the garden lies the tallest tree, where he will be spending the next hours under it. The branches are twisted in a way that looks like they're hugging the moon. Dottore places his steps carefully not to trample on the small patches of padisarahs surrounding its foot. They emit a lovely faint white glow at night. Just as he is about to settle into his usual position, heavy footsteps approach.
“It seems we had the same idea to come here.”
Pierro stands behind him, not too far away from the tree either. Dottore doesn't respond, arms folded. Their relationship has been tense for the last couple of decades. Letting out a heavy sigh, the older man sits down on the bench right at the tree base.
“How’s your search project in the desert going?”
“Nothing worthy of report.”
“My troops are always available if any difficulties arise.”
This was the first time Zandik saw you sick. Not after showering in the cold forest rain or accidentally eating raw fish, you came down with a fever the day after the Akademiya tour.
He had just come back from class and sprinted here, expected to be greeted by your nagging voice. Instead, you were lying eyes closed under a large tree, borrowing its shade to hide from the sun. It was out of your habit to be napping during the day. Zandik cautiously walked over and kneeled down, pressing the back of his hand on your forehead.
“Stay still. I'm making you some medicine.”
You felt the familiar Akademiya fabric draped over your body. The last thing you saw with your blurry vision before falling asleep again was Zandik's figure crouching down near the camp fire, heating up a pot. There was a faint memory where you were briefly called to wake up and bitter liquid was forced down your throat.
Stars had already littered the sky by the time you opened your eyes. Turning your head to the side, you were met with Zandik's back. Open books and messily written notes, some crumbled, some not, scattered around his sitting figure. The scratching sound from his writing filled the silent space. You managed to take a little peek at it from behind.
“The core of the machine originated from the Second Dynasty. People often mistake it for the First.”
Your finger pressed against the question on the paper. Zandik clicked his tongue.
“I didn't ask for your input. Go back to sleep.”
“But I've already slept the whole day.”
“Just let me do my homework alone.”
You turned away and just lied there for a while, listening to the scratching sound. Looking up, his satchel was just an arm reach away.
“Did you bring any candied Ajilenakh nuts for me today- Oh, you still keep this?”
The ruffling noise forced Zandik to pause his work and divert his attention back to you. You were holding his satchel in one hand and the other rummaging the inside, the flower crown peeking out. He immediately shoved it back.
“No. No candied Ajilenakh nut for you today. Now hand it over.”
Disappointment was written all over your face when he snatched the satchel from your hold. Once again, you were left alone with your own thoughts as he went back to the homework.
Something shiny was thrown on the ground and you picked it up. Zandik talked without looking at you.
“It’s a kamera. The Akademiya is collaborating with a tech company in Fontaine so they gave each of us one to study today. I've already looked at everything so you can have it.”
The rest of the night went by smoothly for him without any interruption (except that one time you flashed yourself and accidentally threw the kamera, causing it to hit his head). When he finally got to settle into the sleeping bag next to you, the kamera was still flashing in your hands. Inching closer to Zandik, you positioned the kamera to capture both of your faces. He immediately frowned and looked away.
“I don't want to be alone in the frame.”
He rolled his eyes but gave you the faintest of a smile anyways.
For a long time now, excitement was not an emotion Zandik felt on his birthday. He was determined to keep it a secret even when you wouldn't stop asking. The thought of celebrating his birth irked him to no end. So although today was his 18th birthday, Zandik woke up and walked to class like any other day, not to mention there were extra classes to make up for the last holiday. Crickets had already begun their nightly chirping when he returned to the Devantaka mountain. A cake with an elegantly drawn crow laid next to your sleeping figure. The campfire was still burning and you were not in your sleeping bag, meaning you must have dozed off. Zandik was half convinced to scold you for looking through his personal stuff to look for the date, the other half was busy stopping his heart from leaping out of his chest.
A crumbled bloody tissue right beside your lax hand caught his eye. For a brief moment, the nightmare from six years ago flooded back. Zandik shook his head to steady himself. This was not the time for reminiscence. He hastily crouched down and picked up the tissue. It was then quickly shoved into his coat as soon as your eyes fluttered.
You immediately sat up, gripping his shoulders.
“Happy birthday! I hope you're not mad that-”
You slid the cake closer to him.
“I looked through one of your certificates. I only wanted to do something for your 18th birthday.”
Your smile faltered when he remained silent and expressionless.
“Oh…I’m sorry. I should have asked-”
Larger hands swiftly came up to hold yours.
“Wait, no. Sorry, I’m just a bit tired from the classes. T-thank you. This means a lot.”
His shoulders relaxed when the spark returned to your eyes. He noticed you were wearing the bracelet he gifted you for your birthday this year. You squeezed his hands.
“That's right! You should respect your elders, y’know? After all, I turned 18 earlier than you for a whole month.”
No one would blame him for not being able to sleep tonight. This was the first birthday “party” in eighteen years of his life after all. Not too far away, next to the extinguished campfire, the aftermath of the “party” - smashed cake pieces and a bunch of flowers lay there, patiently waiting for the tomorrow morning clean up. The only thing in its intended position was the kamera placed at your side. His eyes kept drifting between the scene and your body sleeping next to him.
It was a fortunate coincidence that no one rarely came to the mountain. Most were scared of the gigantic ruin guard just like his past research team, or else the sight would be embarrassing. His growth spurt made his already awkward height even more noticeable in the sleeping bag. It used to have plenty of wiggle room but now his legs were starting to feel a bit strained against the fabric. Perhaps, he should acquire a new pair tomorrow at Treasures Street. Although your growth spurt was less dramatic, you were having the same struggle too. Then again, how long would this last?
As much as Zandik wanted to stay on this mountain, his degree would certainly include some sort of overseas travel. It was just a matter of time until the conversation happened. You were his longest experiment yet and he blamed himself for getting too entangled. Six years had gone by and he never had the courage to pursue the truth all the way. Nonetheless, Zandik reached a conclusion that some things were better left to be mulled over at a much more ideal time. This time, he was determined to fall asleep when his eyes closed.
You shuffled to move out of your sleeping bag. Zandik continued to play pretend, eyes shut tight.
A vomiting sound came from the direction of the river followed by rapid breathing. The bloody tissue came back into his mind. It was a long while until you climbed into your spot next to him again. Zandik barely slept that night, his thumbs kept skimming over the crumbled tissue hidden inside his coat.
Over the week, Zandik had collected so many bloody tissues from you that counting became pointless. Each one bloodier than the next. Your nightly sneak out was more frequent too. The breaking point was your sudden nose bleed this morning, leading to your black out when the two of you were exchanging notes about a recent theory. He had to press for the truth tonight.
You were too occupied vomiting to notice Zandik was standing right behind. He had been standing there observing for at least ten minutes, waiting until your vomiting ended. Finally, you came to a stop. Zandik placed a hand on your shoulder.
You jolted and a loud whooshing sound made him retract his hand. Two tremendous wings sprouted from your back. They would have hit him in the face had he not stepped back. He stared in bewilderment as feathers scattered around the both of you. One landed on your head. When you turned half of your body around, he managed to see the content of your vomit. The water was red with diluted blood, little pieces of flesh floating away. Your insides were being spit out. Zandik reached out a hand.
“I-It’s okay. Let me help you.”
You were about to say something but clasped your hands over your mouth. He stepped one step closer when you backed away, the wings covered your body.
“Please, I'm sure there is a plausible explanation for all of this. But right now, you need medical help.”
Hands still wouldn't leave your mouth, you shook your head and flew away. Zandik leaped forward to hopefully catch onto your wings but the only thing he got was stumbling into the river. Your diluted blood stained the part of his clothes that touched the water. You did not seem to just fly away, else he would still be able to make out your figure from afar. Teleportation was the more accurate term.
After that, he came back to sit by the river to gather his thoughts, watching bits of your flesh being carried away by the river.
Zandik wordlessly went back to sleep in his dorm for the first time in six years.
Even when the bed was certainly the better option compared to the sleeping bag, Zandik had not been sleeping well. Every night was the same. He closed his eyes hoping it would help but he just ended up staring at the darkness for hours. More often than not, he made a bad habit of turning his head to the side to ask you for some sleeping medicine. Your kamera was left untouched on his desk.
Your camp at the Devantaka mountain was still visited by Zandik everyday after class. He collected a feather of yours on that night to compare it to other winged species on the mountain. Hybrid people were a minority in Teyvat but enough to still blend in with society.
Dusk was the peak time for bird activity. They hurtled in flocks to feed at the last minute before the night came. Zandik was sitting on a tree near the camp, looking through a pair of binoculars. An open notebook with loads of messy bird sketches and their feathers on his lap, your feather was neatly tucked between the pages. When he moved them down to observe the ones near the ground, the binoculars caught a figure wearing an Akademiya uniform walking towards him. She waved at him from under the tree. Putting the binoculars away, Zandik clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“Do you mind? I'm a bit preoccupied right now.”
“I promise I won't take much of your time.”
He put on the binoculars again, focusing back on the birds. Her friendly smile did not falter.
“You seem familiar with this mountain. Could I trouble you to guide me back to the Akademiya? I’ve been lost for quite some time, you see.”
It was an awkward while of her just standing there and Zandik scribbling some notes with the binoculars still on. Finally, he hopped down from the tree and gathered the satchel on the ground. Still not looking at the girl, he signaled her to follow with his hand and started walking. She let out a relieved sigh. From behind, she asked while trying to keep up with his long strides.
“What’s your name if you don't mind?”
His eyes did not leave the notebook.
“Nice to meet you, Zandik! I'm Sohreh!”
A gush of wind passed by, causing his coat pocket to open a bit. His hand reached up to cover it, fingers pressed down on the photograph of you inside. It was the only photo in the kamera he decided to print out - one of the few without him in the frame.
Ever since the encounter on the mountain, Sohreh would seek him out in the halls between classes and lunch breaks. He once debated if he should just be honest and told her to leave him be, but he decided to hold on for the time being. She was an Amurta student. An extremely useful source of information for his search project.
Lunch break in the Akademiya was a bustling time, especially the canteen. Food orders being shouted everywhere, the chattering never ended among the scholars. Some stood eating, some sat and others did not eat but were just passing by to greet their friends.
“You know, the Haravatat Darshan is going on a big field trip in the desert this weekend. I heard they're going to the infamous Orchard of Pairidaeza deep inside Mt. Damavand.”
The name piqued his interest. Zandik looked up from his plate of fatteh.
“That is the resting place of the Goddess of Flowers, right? Nabu Malikata?”
Sohreh’s face lit up at his response. This was one of the rare moments where the conversation wasn't one-sided.
“Yes! Everything in the Orchard, also known as the Eternal Oasis, was frozen in time by King Deshret to preserve Nabu Malikata’s last moments.”
“Hm, wasn't Nabu Malikata also an angel who somehow escaped the curse on her race?”
“That is one of the most widely accepted and popular theories. I must say, although this is Haravatat’s research study, your knowledge is quite solid.”
Zandik gave a non-committal hum and turned back to his plate. Sohreh had steered the conversation to a topic he could not care less about. He was secretly glad his time doing research on the folklores you cared so much finally paid off. This trip could prove to be a huge lead. For now, Zandik focused on savoring the fatteh. An ancient and simple dish. You used to make it on every full moon, exploiting the huge amount of mints growing in the mountain. He remembered something about the full moon being an important occasion in your family.
The scorching sun of the Great Red Sand was not his preferred weather. Having said that, he felt not an ounce of regret signing up for this field trip. His notebook had never been filled this fast. Although, it would have been ideal if Sohreh did not volunteer to accompany him on this trip. She claimed to be friends with Vahumana students, unlike Zandik, and said it would be beneficial for him if she joined. Zandik did not need that.
One of the strongest clues about you he gathered on this trip was the moon. He had already spent a reasonable amount of time studying it in the House of Daena, but never came across its connection to this particular desert civilization. According to the newly excavated stone tablets during the trip, the people here practiced many worship rituals. The full moon was considered an important date where communities gathered to have a big dinner then pray at the end of the meal, expressing their gratitude to the Moon Maiden - Goddess of Flowers.
Their long and arduous journey finally came into fruition as the professor ushered everyone to come explore the Eternal Oasis. He led them to the middle of the lake to gather around a gnarled tree. To Zandik’s surprise, even the water was frozen in time as he could walk on it freely. The professor pointed at the tree.
“It’s a pity you lot can't see Nabu Malikata’s horns for yourself. Eighteen years ago, an Akademiya scholar unearthed her pair of horns right here under the tree's root. But then, a custody battle between the Jinns and the Akademiya happened.”
“Eventually, after consulting the Akasha system and putting ethical practice into account, the sages agreed on giving ownership to the Jinns.”
Eighteen years…Eighteen… Zandik figured it out. His pencil broke in the middle of his frantic scribbling. He let out a curse loud enough to be given a discriminating side eye from the scholar next to him. The professor steered the group to another point of interest, leaving only Zandik at the old spot. The page almost got ripped out by his trembling hands. A gush of wind flew by and he reached up to feel your photo through the coat pocket.
Someone collided with his left shoulder.
“Oh, Zandik! What are you standing there for? Let's go or else we’ll be left behind.”
Sohreh had just finished talking with her Haravatat friends. She tugged at his arm but he swung it out of her grip, staring at the tree ahead. Zandik squeezed your photo one more time.
Time to put an end to this six-year experiment.
A hundred and forty seven. That was the total number of books relating to Nabu Malikata Zandik had read this week. Contradictory to before the finding, he spent most of the time holed up in his dorm with piles of books. There were so many notes that they almost covered all of the floor surface. Broken pencils lying everywhere.
Someone knocked on his door. Sohreh's voice echoed from the outside.
“Zandik! I know you're in there! We agreed on a picnic today, remember?”
Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Zandik got up on the bed and opened the door for her. She greeted him with a smile, a basket hung by her arm.
“My Rtawahist friend said the stars will be the clearest at the Devantaka mountain in about thirty minutes. I don't want to miss it!”
They, in fact, did not agree on a picnic. To be more exact, Sohreh took Zandik’s non-committal hum for a yes and that landed him here, at the old camp. His fault for not listening to what she was saying in the first place.
Sohreh was struggling to make a fire. Her clumsy hands kept dropping the wood, something you would never do.
“Ugh, it would have been nicer if we managed to make a fire. It's freezing out here.”
Zandik was sitting not too far away with an open book on his lap, his back facing hers.
“How did you find this place again?”
“Oh, I just walked a bit around here in advance. This is quite a comfy spot. The previous camper sure knew this place like the back of their hand.”
There was a mixture of sounds coming from Sohreh’s direction but he tried his best to continue reading. He did not know what to think of the new revelation that she lied about not knowing the way around here. Somehow, both of you were terrible liars.
“Who was that friend you used to hang out with anyways? I often saw them just walking in these parts.”
What Sohreh just said made Zandik flinched. He was not ready to have a conversation about you of all people.
“That's none of your business.”
“It's a good thing you stopped hanging out with that weirdo. I once saw them make you eat some sort of freaky plant concoction. Big ick.”
His knuckles were white from gripping the book too tight.
This time, it was Sohreh's turn to flinch.
“I wouldn't say it like that! Checking up on you would be more accurate. That…jungle kid, they weren't even around here, who knew-”
“I’m going back to my dorm.”
He promptly shut the book and stood up, clearly irritated. She lunged forward from the camp fire to tug him back by the arm.
“Wait! Please don't go. You don't know how long I’ve been waiting for a date like this with you.”
The silence in the Devantaka mountain was something Zandik always found comforting. Now, if anything, it made the act of strangling a fellow Akademiya scholar to death felt more damning. His hand still had not left her neck and he was still in position, crouching on the ground with her lifeless body between his knees. Regardless, the crickets kept chirping.
Nothing would have happened if Sohreh had not run her mouth further. Apparently, you once tried to treat her injuries when you found her falling hard into the river. Scratches and wounds were all over her face and arms due to the sharp rocks. She thanked you by slapping you hard in the face as you were about to hand her your herb medicine, accusing you of poisoning. She chalked it up to survival instinct.
Even when his breathing had slowed down, the hands wrapping around her neck would not leave. You were still plaguing Zandik's mind at this moment. He saw you at Sohreh’s spot. Your neck was bruised, lifeless but full of hatred eyes staring at his red ones, just like the dream from six years ago. You were right to flee from him as everyone did.
Tears landed on Sohreh’s cold cheeks, but they were not his.
“Zandik, let her go. It's over.”
Hands gently pried his rigid ones away from her neck. They then moved up to hold her face delicately. Zandik almost fainted when he lifted his head. Your wide wings curled around you and Sohreh's body, the corner of your mouth had a smudge of blood. Right after you stroke her cheek one last time, Sohreh's body dissolved into nothingness. Your tired but soft eyes met his gaze before you collapsed. He moved fast enough to crash you into his chest before your head hit the ground.
Zandik carried your body all the way to his dorm without any disturbances. Most were already asleep at this hour. The door creaked when he used his left foot to nudge it open as his hands were already busy carrying you. The tip of his shoes collided with a pile of crumbled notes the moment he stepped inside. A broken pencil rolled on the floor.
The walk to the bed was akin to navigating a land mine. Your big wings obscured his vision which made it even more difficult. Upon closer inspection, they looked battered and huge chunks of feathers were missing. You were equally malnourished. Zandik swept the books lying on the bed to the ground using the side of his arm, and placed you down. A wave of numbness washed over him. He had been pulling all-nighters for the whole week, not to mention murdering his peer just now. When everything started to get blurry, he fell face first to the bed on top of you, head laying just beside your neck. Zandik intertwined his hands with yours. It had been so long.
The sound of water running in the bathroom never stopped, even when he had finished cleaning. Books and notes were now in their respective piles in a corner, while the broken pencils got thrown out for safe reasons. Zandik knocked on the bathroom door.
“Are you alright in there?”
Your faint voice answered back on the other side.
“I’m alright! Give me another moment!”
“Okay. Be quick. Your clothes are right outside, by the way.”
His uniform was folded neatly on the cabinet by the door. He heard a creak and a hand reached out from the inside, swiftly snatched it away. Zandik rolled his eyes and went back to sweeping the floor. Something about the domesticity made his stomach twist.
It was definitely longer than a moment until you stepped out, the hem of his Akademiya coat almost touched the ground. Zandik had already stood by the bed with a big tower in hand, but his eyes were looking at anywhere but you. Smiling to yourself, you silently positioned yourself on the bed so that your wet wings faced him.
Sitting by the window, he watched you wipe the candied Ajilenakh nut crumbs off your mouth. There were only two out of five bars left on the plate. The golden midday light spilled into the room, draping over the bed where you're seated. Taking another bar, you plopped down on the pillow and began talking.
“I’m leaving soon today.”
“No, somewhere far away. My… illness is some sort of punishment from the Heavens that I have yet to figure out the cause.”
You took a bite out of the bar.
“As you’ve known, the Jinns were like my family, considering they created me from my mother's horns. I don't want my family to bear that kind of burden.”
Your eyes glanced at him.
“That includes you too, Zandik.”
His brows only further knitted together. Leaning his head on the window frame, he spoke to you with a clipped tone.
“After all those years, you don't have trust in my abilities?”
“How can a normal human possibly be tasked with defying the divine's will?”
You let out a sigh when you saw the arrogance still had not left his face.
“I never meant to keep you in the dark, but I cannot take the risk. Had I been more careful things would have been- Sohreh would have-”
Zandik could only watch as you turned away to cry into the pillow. After a while, seeing that your weeping would not stop, he left the window to come to kneel at the edge of the bed, placing a hand on your shaking shoulder. His voice made it through your sobs.
“I can find a suitable treatment for you with enough time. But, there is one possibility to be eliminated before anything proceeds, given that you inhabit the same angel race of your mother.”
The hand on your shoulder flexed for a moment.
You turned completely still, your crying gone. You shook your head.
Ah. This was much expected.
His eyes softened as fingers ran through your sunkissed hair. The drugs in the candies had kicked in. He hoped you would be calmer after a long sleep.
In the name of love, brutalities and deceits were quick to be justified and glorified, draped in the comfort of knowing they were only necessary means to a virtuous end. In the absence of love, Zandik was more than ready.
The moonlight spilled into the room through the window right in front of the desk, where you were sitting for the past two hours watching Zandik sleep. His back was hunched, face down, using his folded arms as a pillow.
Your hand stopped ruffling Zandik’s hair when he stirred, brows furrowed, fists clenched. Under the eyelids, his eyes moved rapidly. You swiftly turned his face to the side and patted his exposed cheek. He woke up with a gasp but quickly regained his composure seeing you. You leaned in, propping an elbow on your thigh to rest your face on your palm.
“You never tell me about those nightmares.”
His eyes avoided you for a split second before standing up to get to the medicine cabinet, shuffling sounds filled the dark room. You picked a study note on the desk and skimmed through the messy text.
“Eleazar… God remains… Hm, are you sure the Akademiya would not abolish this research topic?”
“Don’t worry. I’ve already finished a second one to submit as backup.”
He had returned to the chair after downing a bottle of, in your guess, sleeping medicine. You sighed.
“Sometimes, I regret teaching you my recipes. You rarely asked me to brew anything anymore.”
The study note was promptly snatched away from your hold. Zandik picked up a pencil and started scribbling on it.
“Why don't you have dinner and head to bed? It's been days since you last ate.”
“Avoiding me does you no good, you know? And I’d rather not sleep for three days straight after.”
“I told you there is no drug. Didn't I already eat the food myself for you to see? I understand your wariness but right now, you don't even have the strength to control your wings, let alone teleport.”
Your wings ruffled slightly at his sentence. It was true, what he said about your current strength. You could lose the ability to use your wings if you retracted them, there was not enough energy to summon them again. Your pointy finger tilted the pencil in his hand, causing him to halt his writing and an ugly black line across the page. A faint hint of anger on your face.
“What do you think will happen when you put me in a coma for three days straight without sustenance? I know it's part of your plan so stop beating around."
You swatted the study note away.
“I'm not that dumb not to realize this Eleazar research is for me.”
He rubbed his eyes, the sleeping medicine had kicked in. When he spoke, there was slight irritation on his end too.
“And? What would you have done if I were to let go? Aimlessly wander the desert? I'm the one making the logical choice here.”
“You're not supposed to even know about this. Sohreh-”
You only got a “tsk” from Zandik as a response before he got up with a “screech” from dragging the chair.
“I have an important field trip tomorrow so excuse me.”
Removing the Akademiya coat and leaving only the inside robe, he collapsed onto the bed. You called him out from the window, his long coat on you fluttered in the wind.
“You can't work at that Eleazar hospital. I won't allow it. You’ll only dig yourself into a deeper hole.”
From the bed, he turned over to look at you.
“My application made it through the preliminary round and is already pending. Why don't you focus on things in your control?”
His eyes drifted over to the untouched plate of biryani on the desk right below you. It had been there since noon. Sounds of sheets being shuffled filled the tense air. Zandik closed his eyes but was still talking, his back facing you.
“My nightmares are of you dying. I don't intend to see that in reality either.”
After he fell asleep, you quietly ate the plate of cold biryani in the dark, memories from six years ago flooded your mind.
For the past two weeks, the tension between the two of you had somewhat been lifted. Your illness, despite being as atrocious as ever, turned predictable enough for him to map out the time it flared up. This was good progress.
Without your company, Zandik still found himself wandering the Devantaka mountain after class, passing by the old camp and sitting at the river, gazing up at the gigantic ruin machine. The metal junk, despite having nothing new to tinker with anymore, had grown on him. In fact, everything you had touched, he bunched them up into neat memory threads and stitched them across his body. They prevented the frail little boy sleeping under the shades with you from falling apart limb by limb. They had been doing a terrible job as of late.
Various scents of herbs filled the small dorm room.
You looked up from the pot of Viparyas that you were watering in surprise to see Zandik holding a basket. He put it on the bed next to where you were sitting. The Viparyas were temporarily forgotten on the nightstand as you ran through the plants and flowers inside the basket, rays of sunlight adorned delicate petals. Your excited fingers caress the patch of mourning flowers.
“I didn't know you are still taking care of my garden. Thought my hard work would be long gone after I left.”
Zandik moved the pot of Viparyas to the desk and opened the curtains with calculated indifference. His arms folded as he leaned against the desk, watching you.
“I need them for my medicine.”
You picked up a padisarah, moved it to align with the lights from the window. Coincidentally, the flower obscured Zandik from your view.
“Ah, the color is still off. I can't give them the purple tint my mother created no matter how hard I try.”
A sudden sharp pain pierced through your head, causing you to drop the flower. Looking down, splashes of red clashed with the gentle colors of the plants. Familiar hands, though unintentionally, roughly grabbed your face and lifted it up. Soft tissues wiped the blood under your nose away. Zandik appeared as blobs of color through your blurry vision. You faintly heard something about “get your blood sample” before bitter liquids were forced down your throat. Your head hit the pillow, further amplifying the headache. Someone pulled up the sheet, the walls of your chest closed in, blood and matter was building up at your throat, demanding to be let out-
Zandik’s hands clasped over your mouth and pressed down. You panicked to try your best to pry them off. Your wings flapped violently, scattering feathers across the room. Instead of vomiting, your abdominal and chest muscles felt slack, but that did not last long before the urge surged up again. In the end, blood and flesh stained his hands while you gurgled them out, staining the sheets too. When your mouth was no longer covered, you talked to him in ragged breaths.
“Zandik, I’m in so much pain.”
He watched you dozed off surrounded by your own blood and feathers, cleaning his hands with tissues. The experiment failed. Your vomit was supposed to be countered by the medicine, which relaxed the right muscle group at the right moment. Unfortunately, that did not last long enough. The harvest of your garden managed to cheer you up at least. An apology gift in advance.
Letting out a sign, Zandik slid down on the floor and rested his back against the bed. Failure meant he had to redo the whole progress again, coming up with a new medication plan, gathering research materials and more all nighters. The sky behind the window turning a purple hue reminded him his shift at the hospital was about to start. Shaking his head to compose himself one last time, Zandik stood up and headed straight to the medicine cabinet. He picked out a vial to put a small drop of the liquid into your forgotten lunch on the desk.
After making sure you were sleeping on white clean sheets and in a new set of clothes, Zandik shuffled through the wardrobe to find his doctor uniform. The coat was just a tad bit too loose for him compared to his Akademiya one. On the way out, if it had not been for him to turn around to check on you one last time, the dropped name tag (“Specialty Trainee - Zandik”) lying on the floor would have gone unnoticed. He swiftly picked it up and pinned the tag in its original place. All you knew was his application was still stuck in pending.
It was dark when your sleep was interrupted by a violent coughing fit. Your right hand waved away the intoxicating smoke. Looking to your left, you were met with big black irises staring right into your face. The crow nuzzled its beak into your cheek and flapped its wing a little when you ruffled her feathers. Hearing your giggles, Zandik turned his head away from the window to greet you from the desk.
“Sorry, forgot about the smoke for a bit.”
His right hand moved closer to the open window, the red burning cigarette head pointed to the outside. Without having you to say a word, the crow hopped out of your sight, lying completely on your pillow just above your head, so you could talk to Zandik. His blue hair appeared even more lustrous under the moonlight.
“Since when did you smoke? Don't make it into a habit.”
He lightly tapped the cigarette, sending the grey ash to fall down.
“Just something to keep my mind running. Nothing much.”
“You should try sleeping on time.”
You patted the pillow as an invitation. He only shook his head at your sarcastic sentence.
“There's still much I have to do. Forget about me and go back to sleep.”
With that, he turned his back to you and continued mulling over the work, gazing out at the moon outside. An arm suddenly wrapped around his neck from behind, another lifted up to snuff out the cigarette head. In the past, testing his patience could at least make him scold you; nowadays, he just let you do your thing until boredom caught up. Your head rested on his shoulder while your wings curled around the both of you.
“The Akademiya can't abuse their students this much. I'm sure you'll think more clearly in the morning.”
His research materials took you by surprise when you skimmed past them. The arm not wrapping around his neck picked up the paper. Its content was messy but structured enough to read.
“Eleazar? Zandik, this is some taboo stuff. Why are you interested all of a sudden?”
“I’m applying for a spot at an Eleazar hospital in the desert. Naturally, I wanted to do some preparations.”
“That's ridiculous. You don't need to quibble with such a topic for your thesis out of all things.”
You paused for a bit before adding on.
The paper was snatched from your hand. Zandik read it as an excuse to ignore your presence, a signal for you to go away yet he didn't make any move. You stood there quietly, nuzzling against his shoulder, the fabric scraped your face most satisfyingly. Just as your thoughts were about to spiral and his hand reached for the lighter next to the pile of notes, the crow flew up from your bed to snatch the lighter away with its mouth. She landed on your head after the deed was done, bobbing her head like she was expecting praises. You let out a series of laughter, your wings fluttering along while Zandik grunted.
The crow (you could not find a suitable name yet) was an apology gift from him earlier today after a big fight between you two. It was nonsensical of him to think you’d accept his food after being put in a coma for three days straight because of said food. Although as annoyed as you were, there was an uncanny feeling in the pit of your stomach seeing how oddly adamant Zandik was about it. Mainly because he resorted to violence when you kept refusing.
“We can stop this right now if you listen to me.”
His hand held your neck in place from behind, a scissor threatened to slash your left wing with its parted blades. He was slightly hunched as you were sitting on the ground, a plate of biryani in front of you. Zandik never made empty threats. Considering your current strength, you could only pick up the spoon with shaky fingers. There was a gnawing feeling you couldn't shake out of your body after finishing the meal.
Zandik left for classes after that. He returned in the afternoon with your new friend, claiming he found her in the Devantaka mountain. For some reason, she immediately grew a connection to you at the first meeting.
Busy was not enough to describe Zandik's routine nowadays. Aside from dropping by to deliver you food between classes (and checking up on the completion), he disappeared until the moon had risen, fatigue clear on his face. You noticed he acquired a bigger satchel, it seemed much heavier too. Your treatment plan in question remained a mystery. So far, no medicine consumed or weird rituals like you had expected. Yet, your vomiting was less frequent and your wings were feeling livelier, feathers had begun to grow back for the last two weeks.
Your crow returned from her nightly hunt when you were snipping some ill leaves from the pot of Viparyas on the desk by the window. Her sharp feet clung to the edge of one of the Padisarah pots hanging on the window frame. It became a routine for the crow to bring you little trinkets from her hunting. Except today’s trinket was not little. Hanging between her beaks was the strap of a kamera, dirt was everywhere, indicating it was dug up. You leaned in excitedly on the chair. There was a hunch that this was indeed your old kamera, the one Zandik gifted you six years ago. The events after your leaving were so turbulent that you forgot about it until now.
The main door creek opened when you powered it on. On pure instinct, you swiftly shoved the kamera in the inside pocket of the oversized Akademiya coat you were wearing, snipping the leaves and petting the crow as if nothing happened. Zandik approached you from the side, his coat was off, placing down a paper bag containing your dinner with disposable utensils inside.
“You’re later than usual today. Were classes that bad?”
He rubbed one of his baggy eyes.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
Now that he was standing under the bright moon light, an enormous purple bruise under his left eye was as clear as ever. You titled his head to inspect it further.
“Was this someone’s doing?”
He grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand down.
“No. I just tripped on a rock, really.”
Giving you an eye roll, he headed straight to the bathroom with tired hunched shoulders. You reached for the paper bag. Today’s menu was potato boats loaded with bacon bits, a lot of bacon bits. The Akademiya canteen was more generous than you remembered.
Zandik grunted and pulled the blanket higher when you propped an elbow on his chest. You were lying right next to him on the left. Your fingers skillfully applied the bandage under his left eye, the medicine underneath leaving a little stain. He did not let you tend to the bruise until bedtime came and you pulled out the medical kit you hid under the pillow. You pressed on the bandage to make sure all was intact, making him groan in pain.
You pressed on it again, harder this time, Zandik jolted and his left hand flew up from the mattress to hold your waist. His first instinct was to yank you off but quickly held himself back on time, resulting in an awkward squeeze. He silently thanked you for ignoring that because you just continued your interrogation.
“Stop lying. Who was it?”
His pointy finger drummed against your waist.
“No one cares enough to bully me, I assure you. Now can we please have our sleep?”
“Ugh. You're the human with the thickest skin, I swear.”
With a sigh, you returned back to your side of the bed, your back facing him. Your eyes were closed while your ears waited to pick up on his little snores. It only lasted for twenty minutes before you could open your eyes again, your wings protectively curled around your body to obscure yourself from his view. Pulling out the camera from under your coat, you immediately pressed its power button. The first picture popped up along with the battery percentage and the “1457/1457” in the top corners, left and right respectively. You read the date written at the bottom.
December 20th, XXXY (Today was October 3rd, XXXZ)
The shot was in third person. Someone took a picture of you sitting at the desk from behind, the afternoon light lit up the whole scene through the window. You were playing with your crow.
It could have been fine but you only ended up in his dorm for about two weeks, not to mention meeting the crow this morning. Perhaps an error? Did Zandik take this? You continuously pressed one of the buttons and the date kept going further back. They were candid shots of you just doing mundane stuff in the dorm, even sleeping. All in third person.
Eventually, you reached November.
The shot was in third person. Someone took a picture of you sitting on the edge of the bed at night from the side, wrapping a bandage around your crow’s right wing. She sat obediently on your lap in the dim room.
A chill ran across your spine: you had never done this before. Your eyes drifted to the sleeping crow in one of your Padisarah pots hanging by the window for no reason. You pressed the button.
The shot was in your view. You took a selfie with Zandik and your crow. The three of you were lying on the bed with her in the middle. A smile adorned both of your faces but Zandik's was fainter.
Again, you had never done this. You kept pressing the button. Several images of plants and flowers flashed by. You caught a few selfies here and there (mostly with your crow, occasionally Zandik from afar). Only a dozen of them had Zandik alone in the frame and in third person, doing mundane tasks like you in the dorm: studying by the desk, sleeping, dropping off food and so on. There were so many pictures to shift through that you actually caught yourself smiling at them, temporarily forgetting the initial eeriness.
That was until you reached April.
The shot was in third person. Someone took a close up picture of you lying on the bed unconscious, a puddle of blood and flesh surrounded you. There was also blood dripping from your mouth. A hand was placed on your head, fingers threading through your hair.
It was Zandik's hand. You could instantly recognize any parts belonging to him. A chill ran across your spine again and this time, it did not leave. Why were there pictures of you in the past taken by him and yourself? On top of that, you could not recall performing any of those actions.
You kept pressing the button to continue your journey through the non-existent past. Contrary to your expectations, the pictures from then on were familiar to you and they all took place at the Devantaka mountain. Eventually, the low battery panel popped up, you could only catch a glimpse of the year (XXXU - six years ago) before the kamera shut down.
Putting it back in the inside of your coat, you closed your eyes, trying to fall asleep but failed to do so. Unbeknownst to you, Zandik had turned to face your figure. He had not been able to sleep either.
Right here in this drawer, you swore there was a charger. They were seen under Zandik’s clothes a few days ago. You accidentally stumbled across it when you helped him organize the closet. There wasn't much time left until Zandik stopped by to deliver you lunch and saw his clothes lying all over the floor with you crouching down by an open drawer. It would have been so embarrassing if-
Zandik stopped dead in his tracks. You frantically stood up to explain yourself.
“I-it’s not what it seems! The radio died so I'm just looking for a charger.”
“Um, the one in here? I saw it a few days ago.”
Your finger pointed down at the open drawer. His brows furrowed.
“The radio doesn't even use a charger. If you want, I’ll buy some batteries after class.”
It was awkward folding and putting his clothes back together with him; nevertheless, you got to sit down and have lunch in the end, Zandik sat by the desk to smoke. Today's menu was Shawarma wrap with meatballs as a side. You secretly saved the meatballs for the crow because the meat felt a bit overwhelming these days.
If you had woken up a little sooner, you’d have found Zandik taking out the charger to dispose of it in the public trash bin once he went to class.
The sound of water running inside the bathroom rang through the dim room nauseously. Your dinner was left untouched on the desk while you're busy rummaging through his satchel. Seated on the bed, your trembling fingers shifted through the thick pile of papers inside: homework, thesis, certificates, patient list- patient list?
Subject IV, adult, body functions completely shut down, a large area of skin ██████.
Subject III, adult, body functions completely shut down, a large area of skin ██████.
COD: Extreme fear led to complications.
His application was supposed to be pending. That was what he told you when you asked him again and again, begging him to back out on the idea. When you looked at the date, you realized this list was two months old. There was a clip pinned to the top left corner, attaching another piece of paper on the back, the material was different from the hospital issued paper and similar to that of his notebook, his handwriting was all over it.
MENU - October 2th-8th, XXXZ
Monday: Charcoal-Baked Ajilenakh cake, (subject wanted to skip lunch to have more treats), Pita Pockets
Tuesday: Baklava, Fatteh, Biryani* - Subject X
Wednesday: Selva Salad, Potato Boats with Scented Meatballs, Curry shrimp - Subject XIII
Thursday: Tulumba, Biryani*, Tahchin
*: Favorite dish, repeat more.
(Solved) Problem: Blood samples indicate negative abnormalities -> Solution: Take breaks between human meat consumption.
You almost dropped the paper with how shaky your hands were, your breathing picked up. Tears gathered at the corner of your eyes and a sudden urge to vomit surfaced. This was not similar to the blood vomit, it had stopped for a week now. Your potato boats on the desk looked even more ominous. The crow died this afternoon after you fed her some meatballs. Her body now lay underneath the soil of one of your Padisarah pots.
A hand wrapped around your neck from behind and gripped tightly, tilting your body backwards until your back collided with someone's chest. You did not notice the sound of water running had stopped for quite a while.
“Ah, I knew you would eventually figure it out.”
Your hands abandoned the papers and flew up to claw at his hand but to no avail. The pressure increased, making you choke. Zandik's voice was right beside your ear.
“This has been the most successful experiment out of ninety four so far, despite we’re only about two weeks in. Your vomiting stops and your wings are beginning their healing process.”
He leaned further down. His free hand intertwined with yours.
“Can’t you believe more than a year has passed? After all that time, my treatment finally came to something. The god remains in the Eleazar patients’ body parts have enough resentment to balance out the heavenly rules imposed on your angelic body. After all, their goals are to also defy the rules.”
You managed to gasp out a few words.
“You erased my memories.”
Zandik hummed thoughtfully, kissing your shoulder. The grip on your throat relaxed a little.
“Correct. Ninety three times to be exact. I did not want all that trauma to get to you.”
You were back to choking as the pressure was even greater this time, your wings ruffled roughly. The hand not holding your neck left your hand and pulled out a vial from his coat pocket, shoving it to your mouth. Just as the liquid was about to flow in, you focused all of your strength into your wings and swatted him to the side. Zandik fell onto the floor a few feet from you. Your legs immediately sprang to action, sprinting to the window. One leg on the desk, you opened the curtains, ready to leap out.
Something was gripping the tip of your left wing. Zandik had got up and was now dragging you back. With a puff, your wings retracted, you took the opportunity and jumped. Your body fell from the 4th floor.
It could have been grim had you not been able to summon your wings back on time. You flew for a few seconds to regain your remaining strength, gambling on a teleportation.
That night, you were able to sleep soundly with the Jinns in the desert.
At the end of Zandik's next night shift in the hospital, he went out for a cigarette break at the back. The orange light lit up a small area amidst the cold empty desert. He fished out the kamera from underneath the medical coat. Sand particles scratched his face, his hair swayed to the wind that had just picked up. A sand storm was coming, he’d better come home soon. Zandik tossed the dead kamera with all his strength out to a far distance and walked back inside.
The moon greeted Zandik when he opened his eyes. He had been lying at the same spot for the whole day, fading in and out of consciousness, half buried in the sand. His mind was rather empty right now for a near death man, mainly because there was nothing left to mull over. Partly, he did not want to. Why would he ever want to? Getting chased out and expelled over an old murder case (the body was never found, mind you), and being denied shelter by any villages he visited were hardly fond memories. Zandik could only sigh and look up at the moon, waiting for starvation to finally end the misery. He remembered how the moonlight made you look so soft sitting at his desk at night, either playing with the padisarah pots or your stupid crow. It was a pity, that dead crow, you taught it so many tricks, one included snatching his lighter away. Your laughter filled his ears after every time. Ah, you did it again. Spiraling thoughts always ended with you despite being the last person he wanted to be reminded of. Zandik wondered if you hated him now, or even cared to think of him at all.
A big calloused hand pulled him up roughly by the arm. In his darkened vision, he could faintly make out a white bearded old man with a hoarse voice.
“Boy, wake up! I’ve got some food here.”
If someone told a 12-year-old Zandik he would be standing in the halls of Zapolyarny Palace, he would burst out laughing and mock their intelligence. But here he was, walking alongside the Fatui Director to meet the Tsaritsa. Not that he held any reverence to the goddess or any gods, he simply found the situation amusing considering the many directions his life could go. Pierro talked to him while looking straight ahead.
“The Tsaritsa does not favor flowery words. I suppose that would be no problem for you. Bow your head and keep your gaze down. Do not interrupt Her Majesty in any circumstances.”
They stopped at a grand tall door with intricate patterns at the end of the hall. He could feel the air shifted to a chilling tone. The old man adjusted Zandik’s Fatui issued jacket and patted the fur so they seemed more ordered. Finally, he reached for the handle.
The Tsaritsa greeted him with a smile on the throne.
“Greetings, Zandik. You must be exhausted from the trip. I apologize that my ‘subordinate’ arrived so late to find you in such a state. I'm sure you'd understand. The road is a long one, after all.”
She beckoned him to come closer with a wave of her hand. He went to kneel on his right knee before the throne, head down. Pierro was standing just behind him after paying his own respect. The Tsaritsa crossed her legs.
“The Jester found your quick witted deeds to resolve the hardship during your journey impressive in his letters. I too, found them to be most astonishing for a human your age.”
When she fell silent, Zandik took it as a clue to speak. His voice echoed in the spacious room.
“They were just some tricks I managed to learn during my study, Her Majesty. The Jester must have made some exaggerations."
He could hear a faint laugh from her.
“Oh child, do not undervalue yourself. Your friend, the one who came all the way from the desert to inform us of your situation, also spoke of your intellect. However, she only requested we provide shelter and, in return, your service in our research faculties.”
Her hand signaled for him to stand up and he obliged. She leaned back on her throne.
“So hear my personal edict for you, heretic of Sumeru. From now on, you shall serve the people of Snezhnaya under the title ‘2nd of the Fatui Harbinger’.”
The Tsaritsa gave Pierro a look. The old man came forward to pin the II Harbinger insignia on his coat. This time, she gave Zandik a warmer smile.
“Now, your friend is resting in one of our guest rooms. They collapsed soon after we finished the deal but rest assured, our medical staff is tending to them with utmost care. Pierro will take you to the II Harbinger quarter and you can move them there after. You both are dismissed.”
People never would have guessed this place was located in the cold-hearted Snezhnaya. Almost all kinds of plants flourished, especially Sumerian, here in this small patch of land and the air was chilly at best. A river, closely resembling the one at the Devantaka mountain, flowed in the middle of it all with a padisarah flower bed, and a stone bench on the side.
People never would have guessed this ‘garden’ was at the back of the II Harbinger’s largest base in Snezhnaya either. But of course, how could they know? Civilians were instructed to stay at least ten kilometers away from the Fatui's private properties, lest they be confronted by guards. In this case, Dottore himself.
The sun was going down with its magnificent purple tint. One hand intertwined with yours, the other on your waist, Dottore’s steps elegantly match your graceful ones on the grass, each step getting closer to the river. You tended to make a little kick with your feet whenever the direction changed, while his movements were less erratic, following wherever you led. His mask almost poked your face during the waltz. When your hand on his shoulder left its place, Dottore immediately understood and gave you a little spin. The spin came to a halt and your left foot was right at the edge of the river, his hand found your waist again and yours on his shoulder. He chuckled as he watched you catch your breath.
“Heh, seems like someone had a successful dance class this morning.”
“You know Her Majesty, I could not ask for a better teacher.”
He pulled you up so that the two of you could stand upright. Stepping back a bit and putting an arm behind his back, Dottore lifted your hand to press against his lips.
“I took the day off early to show you my latest and most monumental work yet.You remember my frustration with finding the right perspective to better observe the world?”
“Of course, I do. It's all you ever talk about these days.”
That earned a laugh out of him.
“After much consideration and putting your suggestions into account, I came to the conclusion that time was what was missing all along.”
Placing a hand behind your back, he gently turned you around. You gasped and tumbled back at the sight but Dottore held on your shoulders tightly. Another Dottore grinned at you, extending a hand, his back slightly hunched.
“Meeting you had been the moment I looked most forward to. You can call me by any name you wish or ‘Omega’, like Prime does.”
You glanced at the Dottore behind you. He nodded.
“It's just to avoid mixing up me and my segments.”
One of his hands left your shoulder to guide your hand to the segment’s palm. He leaned down to speak into your ear.
“How about a dance for you two to get to know each other first?”
He conveniently kissed your cheek and gently ushered you to Omega. Omega’s fingers closed around your hand like that of a flytrap to its prey, slowly pulling you forward. As the two of you settled into a steady rhythm, you couldn't help but notice his feet were holding themselves back not to overtake your lead. Dottore stood behind with his arms crossed to watch the both of you.
Daily check up was your favorite but also least favorite time during the day. You got to see Dottore, which was good, but the check up itself was annoying. No one liked to be poked and injected every day. After you had your early morning walk in the garden, like a biological clock had struck, you automatically knew it was time to head straight to the main lab. The last time you were late, he barely acknowledged you during the whole process. A little tantrum, you supposed. Some things never changed.
Sitting on the metal table, you patiently looked around the messy but organized room to wait for Dottore, your feet swung gingerly. There were piles of paperwork haphazardly shoved in the left corner, on your right was a wide desk with a white board above and a chair. This was where he spent most of his day researching, hunched back, occasional foot tapping and empty tea cups. You scolded him all the time for the dangerous equipment all over the surface. The only immovable thing for the last few centuries was the ceramic flower vase you gifted him on his 64th, 65th? birthday; the date was blurry in your mind. Even the wilted flowers were kept for a long time, fresh ones just stacked on top of them; over time, it led to a mess with petals scattering everywhere.
Tinkering sounds pulled your eyes away from the vase. Dottore had entered the lab at some point and was now preparing your medicine at the desk. He tapped the syringe, inspecting it as he talked to you.
“Prime is out on a mission per the Tsaritsa’s order. I hope you won't mind being under my care for the day.”
“Oh, it's alright. Did he say he will be returning late?”
“Hm, he was vague about the time but said it should be resolved today. Nevertheless, let's get this check up done, shall we?”
Putting the syringe in place on the medical trolley along with other sanitization tools, Omega shuffled over to you and kneeled down to bunch up your clothes around your thighs, revealing a series of bandages with blood leaking underneath, old and new wounds, and scars. In other words, your biggest insecurity. His hands instantly withdrew when your leg muscles flexed. He pulled the clothes back in place and stood up, looking down at you.
“Did I do something to offend you? If so, please accept my apology.”
You titled your head in confusion.
“You reacted rather negatively to a normal procedure. Naturally, I am concerned.”
You shifted a bit away from him, suddenly vividly aware of the cold metal surface pressed against your skin. Your eyes fixed on the floor and your chest felt tight when you spoke.
“Sorry, I’m just not used to anyone but Zandik…um…”
Omega got into a thinking trance, arms crossed. After a while, he gave you a soft smile.
“Would you like to accompany me in the lab today? You can go back outside to your garden any time.”
“What about the check up?”
“That can wait until you're comfortable enough or when Prime returns. For now, I just want to spend some time with you.”
With hands clasped behind his back, Omega lowered his body closer to you, purposefully blocking out the medical trolley, a tint of hope in his voice.
“If you're willing, of course.”
The appeal of the garden momentarily took the forefront in your mind. Either you went out there, frolicking and waited for Dottore or repeated the old habit you hadn't done for a long time. Come to think of it, you had not joined him in the lab outside of the daily check up ever since… Nevermind, this could be the chance to heal some old wounds. Your eyes drifted up to his soft smile.
Like before, a hand was offered to you. But this time, you did not have anyone but yourself putting yours in his palm. His fingers closed around you most tenderly.
Leading you away from the metal table and to the chair of the desk, you were initially confused why he got to sit while you stood there awkwardly. It was when he patted his thigh that you understood his intention. Greedy man. You took a step back.
Omega chuckled at your reaction.
“Come now, we used to do this all the time. You even loved overtaking the work for me.”
You bit the inside of your lips, looking at the floor again.
“That was a different time. This is a different time. Things can't just go back to before just because you decided it was enough.”
His body shifted to face you. The smile was still persistent on his face.
“You misunderstood me. My intention was never to fix what was not meant to be fixed. Greedy as I am, I do know my boundaries well.”
“How about this, I have another deal for you.”
“If my memory serves me well, there is a big festival coming up for Her Majesty’s birthday and one you have begged Prime to let you attend instead of the Fatui party for multiple years.”
“Well, the Fatui’s annual party is quite repetitive. I want to go outside for once.”
The “party” in question was you quietly nibbling on some pastries next to Dottore who rambled on with Pantalone at the table. You could never get close to the man even if you tried your best or how many silk wrapped gifts you received, but you kept your animosity nonetheless.
Omega's smile grew wider.
“I know. This is exactly why this deal is extremely beneficial for both of us, especially you. I can convince Prime to let you attend the festivals, and, in return, you will spend some time with me my way.”
“How can you be so confident? There are only three people Zandik listens to: Me, Her Majesty and Pierro. I don't think Pantalone counts…Nevertheless, what makes you think you can when I can't?”
“You seem to forget this important fact. He is not me but, I am him. Who else could be more convincing to Zandik but himself?”
You let out a sigh, looking at the messy flower vase contemplatively. He pulled your attention back by patting his thigh again.
With that, you awkwardly came to stand between his knees. You did not even have time to choose which thigh to sit yourself as Omega's hands were already holding your stomach and waist, swiftly pulling you down onto his lap. He then used his legs to shift the chair closer to the desk, one hand picked up the pencil, the other splayed on your stomach. You tried to hunch your back so that it would not touch his chest but when he leaned over to read the materials, your entire back was engulfed. There was the faintest of a smile on his face as the hand on your stomach squeezed. He picked up a note and showed it to you.
“With your intellect, I’m sure you’ve caught on the overall content already. What I’m really interested in is your thoughts on this particular method. So, indulge me, if a soul is separated from the body, which one would perish? Does the same theory still apply to Celestial beings?”
You gave a moment to think and took the paper from his hand, skimming it as you answered.
“A body without a soul will cease to function. Vice versa, a soul without a body will have its ties cut from the world. As for Celestial beings, authority is added. Even without a body and soul, their authority over a subject persists.”
He tugged you to lean back on the chair with him and took back the note.
“Interesting. What happened to the authorities after their owner’s passing?”
“They can choose to pass it over onto another being or an object. If not, the authority still exists to balance the world until someone else takes control.”
You craned your neck to look at him.
“You want to kill a god?”
He only chuckled and put the note down.
The first thing you felt when waking up was the feeling of someone scratching your head. Omega's smug face gradually got less blurry in your sight. He retracted his hand when you sat up, the blanket fell off your shoulders, a plate of candied Ajilenakh nuts on the small coffee table in front of you. He left his kneeling position to help you stand up from the couch.
“Sorry, I did not want to interrupt your nap but it's lunch time.”
A bar of candied Ajilenakh nuts was given to you so you could nibble it along the way. Omega wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in. As you two walked past a cracked door in the hall, you managed to take a second-long glimpse at the inside to see Sandrone’s tea party. She peeked her head out to call for you but Omega kept a firm grip on your shoulder, not even bothering to look at the commotion but kept dragging you away, not even when you tugged at his arm or called his name. The sudden change from his gentleness to the ignorance of your autonomy resurfaces some old wounds and buried feelings. You wondered if this segment was from that time period.
Taking advantage of the moonlight, you sat on the edge of the bed facing the window to stitch Zandik’s Akademiya coat, the one that you used to borrow during your stay at his dorm, as time had worn down the fabric. Omega was leaning against the window frame, his head peeking out so that the cigarette smoke didn't get to you. The scene was oddly familiar. You glanced at the tickling clock.
“Zandik still has not returned.”
Omega took a long hit and exhaled.
“You hurt my feelings there. But no, I did not.”
“You lied to me at lunch. I was not informed Pantalone would be there to discuss business.”
He put the cigarette down.
“Prime requested you attend this business meeting he assigned to me today. He only wanted you and Pantalone to get along more. You should know, there are only a few he holds high regard for.”
“I am more than capable of deciding my own social circle.”
He let out a little laugh.
At this point, you were so irritated that the stitches on the Akademiya coat turned ugly. As you rushed another stitch, pulling the needle with the thread upwards, a drop of blood fell on the fabric, soon to be followed by more. Omega was already kneeling by your side, his hand hesitantly placed on one of your thighs. You shook your head and he sighed.
“I’ll give you some medication to temporarily soothe the symptoms but that's it. We will proceed tomorrow morning if Prime has yet to return.”
In a daze, you nodded your head.
“Fine, just give me whatever.”
You fell asleep soon after taking the medication. Omega stood by your bed to watch you for a while before carrying you back to the main lab and placed you down on the metal table. He pulled the medical trolley closer, checking the syringe he put there this morning. His other hand bunched up your clothes around your thighs.
Zandik’s Akademiya dorm bathed in the soft moonlight from the window. On the ground, Zandik was choking you so hard that you gagged, thrashing violently, tears gathered at the corner of your eyes. You tried your best to direct your strength to your wings, in hope of swatting him away but the lack of oxygen was too great. Cold liquid flowed into your mouth. Black spots appeared in your vision then total darkness.
Each breath you took felt like sharp glass cutting through your lungs due to the heartless cold of Snezhnaya. The sun here was so bleak, no one could have guessed it was near noon. In spite of all that, your sore legs never stopped running through the snow, the white medical gown you were wearing fluttered in the turbulent wind. Destinations or directions were not the main concern in your mind. Right now, anywhere far away from Dottore’s lab was enough of an allure for you. Crossing the lab’s backyard led you to a snow covered forest trail that, in your hazy memory, Sandrone’s design bureau should be at the end. A glimmer of hope was all the incentive you needed to keep going, to ignore all the wounds across your body and the tree branches that cut through your skin. You narrowly dodged the needle-like projectiles firing from behind. They stopped for a while before a projectile was fired again, not at you but precisely at the fluttering part of your medical gown. You fell harshly onto the forest ground. The fall created frictions which tore at your wounds.
Before you could do anything, Dottore's boots were already at your point of view. One of his hands came down at your throat to choke the consciousness out of you.
Soft and warm were what you felt when you woke up again. The familiar intricate ceiling of your room greeted you. Looking down, your body was covered with bandages and stitches. Damage control for your injuries. Gloved hand caressed your cheek. Looking to the side, Dottore was smiling softly at you, the metallic crow head on his right shoulder glimmered under the moonlight. The medical trolley peeked out behind his hunched figure.
“That was extremely reckless of you. I would suggest trying a different route next time but I’d rather not have another ‘next time’.”
He chuckled at his own joke while your face remained the same. The pad of his thumb brushed up and down your skin.
“You have my promise that the next treatment session won't be as bad. In fact, I’ll double the sedatives for you. Sounds like a deal, hm?”
“I can't take it anymore. Just let me die, Zandik please-”
The harrowing sound echoed against the walls, bringing forth the deafening silence that would soon follow. Your breath picked up as you hugged the hot reddened skin on your left cheek. The same thumb wiped the tears off the corner of your eyes. After making sure your breathing returned to normal, Dottore turned his back to you to busy himself with something on the medical trolley. He talked without looking at you.
“Go take a bath then I’ll give you some sleeping medicine and perhaps, a nice dinner together. Pantalone gave me some directions on Liyue cuisine during our last meeting.”
You just lay there as he rambled on.
“A steaming pot of braised meat for protein and to battle the cold could be a nice starter. For your sweet tooth, almond tofu- oh?”
You were crying hysterically sitting on the bed, fingers clawing at your face and hair. He calmly came to your side and pried your hands off. Your sobs were muffled when he cradled you into his chest. His fingers ran through your hair.
“Don’t worry, your leg muscles are only temporarily disabled. Once your behavior is less troubling, they are yours to use again.”
Hearing that worsened the state of your already unstable mind. You started thrashing to get out of his hold, punching, scratching, anything. Your skin burnt at every contact of his body. It reached a point where Dottore had to throw you back on the bed. You landed on the pillow with a thud.
When you opened your eyes this time, you were back in your room but your body was without any damages (except for your thighs) and instead of slapping you, Dottore’s hands were holding yours tenderly. He was hugging your entire body from behind. As you moved your head to face him, you realized your pillow was wet right below your eyes.
“Hey, you're finally back.”
There was a brief awkward pause from his side but he quickly regained his composure.
“I have indeed. Do you want me to prepare some sleeping medicine? You gave me quite a scare with how much you thrashed in your sleep earlier.”
“It's nothing, really. Just some things in the past…anyways, how did your mission go? Did the Tsaritsa give you a hard time?”
His hands had to leave yours to let you turn your body around, facing him. They swiftly settled back on your waist. Dottore gave you a smile.
“Not at all. There were some inconveniences at the end but I managed to handle them.”
Without warning, you brushed off his mask. Mechanical parts greeted you instead of the red shade you had grown familiar with. Your hands pushed him away but the hands on your waist just pulled you closer.
“When will you stop lying to me?!”
Silence draped over the whole room. You could only cover your gaping mouth as you stared at his reddened cheek in horror. When Omega’s right hand left your waist, your first instinct was to bury your face into the pillow while your hands acted as shields. The expected pain did not come. His hand only came to rest on the back of your head, ruffling your hair. Still, you did not move to make sure it was not a distraction for something worse. A whole minute went by.
Your voice was muffled, still not turning your face up.
“Call me if you need anything, okay?”
Fingers untangled from your hair. You heard the sounds of sheets shuffling and light footsteps. Just as the door creaked, you lifted your face and called out to him.
“How old is this version of Zandik?”
The door closed behind Omega, leaving him alone in the dark hall. Dottore’s voice echoed through his mind.
He crossed his arm, leaning against the door.
“I know. It was a one time thing. I trust you have already seen everything?”
“The results were disappointing but not off from my calculations. Trauma is not something to be solved in one day.”
Omega began to walk to the direction of the main lab. His hands adjusted the mask.
“Much less in four months. Even if, hypothetically, their mind was finally at ease, could you even bring yourself to kill them, Prime?”
There was a long pause from Dottore's side. It was until Omega sat at the desk in the lab did he answer.
“Her Majesty's order is absolute.”
He paused for a bit before continuing on.
“Let them sleep in tomorrow. I’ll wake them up once my ship is boarded. There are a few Inazuman delicacies I want them to try first in the morning.”
True to Omega's words, Dottore took you out to the festival on the Tsaritsa's birthday. You almost forgot he was sitting next to you on the carriage as you observed the bustling festivities outside through the glass windows. In your stimulated mind, those horses could not be moving any slower.
The Tsaritsa's birthday was the biggest and most widely celebrated holiday. Business men, local or not, took this opportunity to cash in by setting up a variety of vendors, ranging from Snezhnayan food specialties to traditional games. The people usually showed up early either to line up or to take a walk to navigate the area beforehand with their family and friends. All of this happened in the heart of the biggest city in Snezhnaya - the infamous time square in front of the Palace’s main entrance.
At the start of the festival, a line up of horse carriages with the Harbingers inside paraded through the time square, heading to the Tsaritsa tall statue in the center where the Archon herself was already standing at its feet. Once all of them reached the destination, the Harbingers got out to stand in their predetermined position behind the Archon to hear her make an official statement initiating the festival.
Dottore's arms reached out from behind and unlocked the windows for you. He tightened the big Fatui issued coat’s collar around your neck as the freezing wind blew snow particles inside. You peeked your head out and the people waved animatedly at you, smiles adorned their faces. Snezhnayans were already familiar with you after your residence in this nation for over four centuries.
It was clear you were Her Majesty's favorite out of her band of misfits. Most of the prestigious events were not completed without your dance with Her Majesty first, there was also a whole day dedicated to you blessing the nation’s crops by parting a small portion of your angelic power into the soil each year. Naturally, the II Harbinger tagged alongside you.
If you looked behind your carriage, you would see Columbina’s with the locked windows. Pantalone once requested Pierro to switch to her position but was promptly shut down, so now his carriage was far behind yours. Someone put a flower crown on your head. Looking down, your hands were full of small trinkets and bouquets. Dottore ruffled your hair.
Stepping down from the carriage, Her Majesty extended an arm towards you and Dottore’s hand left your shoulder to let you come stand beside her. Once everyone had settled, she rested her hand on your shoulder and began the announcement. A gracious smile was always on her face.
“Another bountiful year has passed for our nation. My children, each of you is a branch that sprouted from the mother tree, that would bear this nation’s fruits of abundance. Let this day be the celebration of your earnest diligence and my deepest expression of gratitude.”
She made a dramatic gesture with her free hand.
“All work shall halt for a whole day. Let the festivities commence!”
Cheers erupted throughout the stadium. The people began to disperse away from the statue and got into their own group. Normally, this was the part where Dottore pulled you back inside the Palace. Like all the Harbingers, he preferred to attend the Fatui banquet with Her Majesty in the ballroom rather than joining the civilians. Another reason he told you was to avoid overstimulation on your side. Fortunately, thanks to the deal, Dottore left his position to walk to where you were standing and tilted his head to the crowd. The Tsaritsa patted your shoulder.
She handed you over to the Harbinger. For a split second, you swore you caught them exchanging a look.
Participating in the activities was awkward because the people immediately broke the line to let you be the first to experience the service. Their gaze either landed on you or somewhere far away, anywhere but Dottore. He did not seem to mind that. Intertwining your hands with him, you dragged Dottore to a food vendor. The surrounding crowd quickly parted to the side. You pointed at a fluffy round bread ring with sweet cheese filling in the middle.
“Would you like the toppings to be berries or raisins?”
When you turned your head to ask him, Dottore was nowhere to be found. A cold gush of wind hit your face. When was the last time you actually went out without him? Some years ago? Decades? Centuries? More importantly, what happened the last time you went out on your own? Your left shoulder instinctively winced from the non-existent pain. The lively festival atmosphere was no more, you were in the middle of Pantalone’s bleak garden. Nothing in here was natural as every branch and every leaf went through altercations at some point to twist their beauty into human standards. The fence had a dilapidated section that you could easily break the wooden structure down, creating a hole just big enough for a small dog to crawl out. You kneeled down on the wet grass and brushed the vines and wild plants to the side. Smokes came out after each breath because of the chilling air after a hard rain.
Your elbow broke the wood perfectly. You did not waste any time crawling through the hole. Chatters and laughter greeted you on the other side. You stood up on shaky bruised knees. Despite the grey sky, the people went on about their mundane activities without a bother. Two brothers hauled an enormous net of fishes as they talked about their day. A sister scolded her little brother for stealing a piece of candy from the store. His little cries made the nearby adults laugh. You took a deep breath, inhaling the cool air into your lungs, taking a step forward.
Two big Fatui Skirmishers charged at you. Panicked, you turned to the opposite way to run off but collided with another Fatui agent. He grabbed onto your arms roughly.
You curled up on the couch in the grim living room. The intricate fireplace offered little warmth to your shaking figure as Dottore loomed over you with hands behind his back. Not too far across from where you were sitting, Pantalone was watching everything on an armchair, a smoking tobacco pipe in his hand on the arm rest. Dottore roughly grabbed your face, which was hiding into the soft cushion, to force you to look up at him. He clicked his tongue.
“Seriously, what's gotten into you lately? You know how important these meetings with Pantalone are to your treatment plans and still chose to misbehave. What do you want me to do with you now?”
“I can't stand being inside these walls any longer. Some fresh air was all I needed, I swear.”
“You’ve already got a whole demi-forest at home. If there are any more excuses you have, better spill it in one go.”
You winced at the word “home”. Your hands came up to try to pry his hand off.
“P-please, I’m sorry. It was supposed to be a small walk-”
The sight of his other hand coming up signaled your demise. Your face went back to hiding again thanks to your learned instinct. Instead of the pain, you felt slender fingers holding your face and head protectively, the cold metallic rings pressed against your skin. You still had not opened your eyes but heard Pantalone's voice above you. He sighed and the scent of tobacco filled your nostrils.
“Not again, Dottore. You're scaring an angel here.”
The same fingers tucked the hair obscuring your face behind your ears and stroked your cheek gently. Without your hair covering up, you had no choice but to look at the two men above. Dottore had a frown on his face.
“Not for long with this attitude. I still have yet to find a safer solution to subdue the fatal vomits and the alarming angelic power decrease rate. They are now weaker than an average human coupled with the insane Eleazar source injections. A handful of corrective behavioral measures were implemented but so far, not much progress.”
Pantalone's hands came down to rest on your shoulders. He leaned down to speak into your right ear.
“Ugh, how do you even tolerate this guy’s grouchy mood? Tell you what, I have a fun little story to lighten things up.”
His left hand left your shoulder to toy with your hair.
“Some time ago, I took home a Samoyed, a cute pup I might add. However, one day, he fell extremely ill. The caretaker did everything they could to keep him inside the house away from the cold, but he just adored the flower bed in my garden so much, he kept finding ways to sneak out.”
Surprisingly, Dottore let the man ramble on without a hint of annoyance on his face. On the contrary, you could tell he was trying to hide his grin when he turned away from you, looking out at the window. Pantalone was done playing with your hair and was now drumming his pointy fingers against your left shoulder.
“You know what I did? I let him be. As expected, the dog passed away way earlier than it should. Of course, it was a waste of money. Nonetheless, if you looked at the bigger picture, my boy learned a valuable lesson and his life was insignificant. But you-”
The hand on your left shoulder suddenly gripped painfully. You let out a groan. He ignored it.
“You ought to know better than a dog. Or would you prefer to be treated like one?”
He dislocated your left shoulder. He dislocated your left shoulder. His other hand immediately came up to muffle your scream. Pantalone leaned over from behind you to get closer to Dottore.
“If I may, could I give some pointers for your ‘corrective behavioral program’ ?”
Dottore patted your head lovingly and leaned closer to him too.
The little girl's voice startled you. Chatters and laughter filled your ears again. Looking down, big innocent worried eyes looked at you, even the seller and the surrounding people stared at you strangely. Your cheeks were cold due to the tears. The black fur collar was wet. Oh, right. You were buying Vatrushkas for you and Dottore. But where was he? Were you even allowed to be here? A tug at your coat pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. That sweet voice talked to you again.
“Why are you crying, big sis? I can buy Vatrushkas for you.”
You chuckled and ruffled her hair.
“I appreciate your kindness but big sis should buy Vatrushkas, not the other way around, right? Now, which topping do you want? Or are you the double type?”
She squealed excitedly at your words.
After waving her goodbye, you wandered away from the vendor, nibbling your own Vatrushka while keeping an eye out for Dottore. A hand grabbed your left shoulder from behind and you almost dropped the pastry. Dottore talked to you with concern evident in his voice.
“My apologies, I did not mean to do that. You look unwell. Why were you crying? Did something happen while I was gone?”
You turned around to look at him, partly to make him let go of your shoulder.
“Where the hell were you, Zandik?”
He was clearly taken aback by your sudden outburst but kept his smile anyway.
“Ah, a flower vendor caught my eyes but the seller unfortunately passed out when he saw me approach. I had to wait quite a while for his son to finally come to take over the business.”
A bouquet of Sumeru roses was pulled out from under his coat. Your face remained unamused as you held it. Taking a bite out of the Vatrushka, you started walking towards the Palace. Dottore wordlessly followed your steps while keeping a safe distance, still bemused by your mood swing. You glared at him from the corner of your eyes.
“Next time, don't just get up and leave like that.”
“That was careless on my part. It won't happen again.”
By the time you two joined the banquet, the group had already split into two tables: Pantalone and the rest of the Harbingers. He flashed you both a smile when Dottore guided you to your seat with Dottore in the middle. The two chatted as you alternated between eating the Vatrushka and twirling Sumeru roses with your fingers, your ears picking up on the much more interesting conversation from the other table.
Sandrone complained about how the imported tea from Qiaoying village had doubled the price, and that she might switch to cheaper ones should the tea parties maintain their current schedule. Childe promised to buy them directly when he returned to Liyue so that the added fees were cut. Alecchino was glancing at you with her death gaze from the corner of her eyes, seemingly aware of the eavesdropper. Shame, you did not have much chance to interact with the new IV Harbinger. Columbina fell asleep. Scaramouche was not here.
Each of them contributed their own energy to the table. You wondered if people would be excited at the sight of you joining in, or scrunched up their nose because the only constant interaction you had in your entire life was Dottore. What if, this time, you finally had enough courage to move over there- Someone pinched your cheek and Dottore's familiar chuckles could be heard.
“I’m sure they won't mind your company. In fact, Sandrone expressed her interest in talking to you multiple times whenever we met.”
Your eyes gained a glimmer he had not seen for over four centuries when you looked up at him.
“Why don't you find out yourself?”
You stood there stiffly in front of their table not knowing what to say. When Sandrone left her seat with a smile to introduce you to her friends, a tear fell from your eyes and soon to be followed by more.
Time was running out. This was something Dottore could not imagine happening to his relationship with you after 457 years together. Her Majesty was benevolent enough to inform him of her order to kill you a year in advance. That fateful meeting consumed his mind at every waking moment.
“Zandik, my child. I trust you understand this decision was strictly born for the greater good of Snezhnaya. A Celestial nail on my own nation is a threat beyond my control.”
Kneeling before her throne, the II Harbinger spoke with his head down respectfully.
“Her Majesty, the possibility of me holding a grudge against your divine judgment is out of the window. Of course, I, too, do not wish for the suffering of the people of Snezhnaya.”
She could not hide the sorrow behind her voice.
“When the Heavenly Principle alerted me about the consequence of delaying the curse of an angel, Pierro and I discussed potential loopholes but sadly, this is how things must go.”
Even Pierro, who always stood in the back to hear every edict from the Tsaritsa, abstained from that meeting.
Your voice pulled him out of whatever next repulsive scene his mind was about to take him on. Looking over his shoulders, he could see your head peeking out from behind the lab door. A smile adorned his face as he turned his body to you on the chair, putting the research materials on the desk in the back of his mind for the moment.
“Come in. I was just finishing up work to join you in bed.”
That was an easy lie. Your steps were sluggish as you walked over to him so you must be in the middle of sleeping or having trouble falling asleep. When he patted his thigh, you hesitated for a bit before climbing onto his lap, nuzzling your face into his neck. His hand came up to run through your hair with the intention of hopefully lulling you to sleep. He rested his back on the chair and, if you were to remove his mask, you’d see he had his eyes closed too. This was the most content he had ever felt for the last centuries.
419 years ago, his obsession with curing you started running deep, even deeper than back at the Akademiya. That was the time the curse got the most out of you, the old method was not only working well anymore, but also harming you. He firmly lived by the belief that whatever actions he took then would be justified at the end, when you were alive and breathing. Alas, Dottore was too wise to fool himself. He knew this was not the truth. Any pain inflicted on you was never justifiable nor did he seek to justify them. Death drove him into a corner and he simply reacted like a cornered animal, clawing and biting at whatever was thrown at him, even if it was the tender flesh he kissed so feverishly.
Tonight, he let himself indulge in your warmth for once. Dottore forgot when was the last time you actively seeked him out, probably one or two centuries ago, forgive an old man’s rusty memory. He wondered if you could sense your own demise coming so you were here to… No, he did not deserve that. Hearing your little snores, Dottore looked down and saw wet spots on your hair. His left hand came up to remove the mask and placed it on the desk. His fingers roughly wiped the tears out of his eyes like a clumsy kid.
He only had three months left.
Your body was hot all over when you woke up. Turning your head to the side, you saw Dottore's mask on the nightstand, reflecting the sunlight from your bedroom windows. Your collar was pulled down; chapped lips were pressing kisses all over your neck, lingering on the curve of your throat and biting softly at your jaws. His scent filled your nostrils. Dottore froze on top of you when he felt delicate fingers scratching the back of his head. He murmured an apology into your neck. You answered with a breathy laugh, fingers traveled down to caress his ear.
“Silly old man. Did you sleep well?”
His hair tickled your chin when he nodded. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he lifted his head, propping an elbow on the mattress.
“Omega is leaving for a mission in Inazuma this morning. Do you want to see him off?”
You pulled his head back into its previous position, pressing his face into your neck. His body relaxed again. Your hand gently massaged his nape.
“Would it be a problem for you to wait until the padisarahs in my garden bloom to replace the old flowers in your vase? This patch is very special so it requires extra attention.”
“Can I ask why they are special?”
“You’ll have to see for yourself.”
Hot breaths tickled your ear when he chuckled. Dottore squeezed your waist.
“Have I ever told you why I rarely throw out the dead flowers?”
You shook your head and he continued.
“Imagine if one day, after I died-”
His chest vibrated as he laughed.
“-and you had to clear my belongings because they were of no use anymore. Would you throw them out or just let them sit in a storage room?”
“I supposed the storage room?”
“That's right. I feel the same way for your flowers.”
You only turned your head to the side to gaze longingly at your sunkissed garden through the windows.
Today was the last day. Your padisarahs were still unfinished. He took the whole day off to be with you in your garden. When you asked why, he only gave a vague answer about missing you lately. You two were now sitting on the padisarah flower bed by the river under the full moon, you lay your head on his lap. Your fingers played with the unbloomed padisarahs.
“Do you think a whitish or a purple glow would work best for a padisarah?”
He tilted his head, thinking.
“White would be nice. Purple might be overwhelming as the flower itself is already purple.”
You hummed thoughtfully. Both of you stayed silent for a while until he placed a cautious hand on your arm.
“I…have something important to tell you about.”
As you turned your body to face him, looking directly into your eyes, the words stuck in his throat. Would you still smile this softly when he took your last breath?
He could not do it. So what if a Celestial nail went down? You would still be alive. He had enough time and resources to prepare for your escape and the worst thing that could happen to him was execution. His hand traveled up to pinch your cheek.
“Omega sent you some gifts from Inazuma.”
“Then why the serious face? You scared me for a moment.”
You left his lap to stand up, extending a hand to him.
“Come dance with me. The moon is beautiful tonight.”
He took your hand and stood up, swiftly getting into position. Your feet guided him elegantly to dance on narrow paths between the padisarahs to avoid trampling on them. The petals swayed to the movements. When you two got past the flower bed, your hand on his shoulder left while the other intertwined with his, you circled around Dottore, slowly luring him to the river. Once you two were close enough, you swiftly pulled yourself back into him, chest to chest, one of your arms wrapped around his waist. He took one good look at your face before separating himself from you. This time, it was his hand that left your waist to give you a spin. Dottore pulled you back right when your heel grazed the grassy edge of the river; however, unlike last time, you stepped backwards and dipped your feet into the water. The two of you danced in the cool moist air of the river, water splashed whenever you did the little kick that he loved so much. Moonlight sewn tiny diamonds onto the ripples that were reflecting the bright full moon.
Nothing really registered in his mind except for your face.
Only when he pulled you in at the end of the dance did he realize you had guided the both of you back to the padisarah flower bed. You smiled softly at him from below. As he was untangling himself from you, your hand unexpectedly caught his wrist and pulled him back in with a force he did not know you were capable of. Your other hand swiftly reached into his coat to pull out the dagger you knew he always kept for convenience. His grip on your wrist was close to breaking your bones, stopping the sharp head just in time from piercing through your chest. Dottore gritted his teeth.
Still smiling at him, your upper body surged forward. Your blood stained the padisarahs below. He stepped forward to catch your falling body, accidentally trampling on the flowers. The hand that previously caught his wrist was now free to hold the handle of the dagger to battle against his grip, and dragged a long wound down to your heart. Blood flowed out of your mouth in streams. Your breath hitched at every word you managed to spew out during your last moment.
Your hand left the handle to guide his hand into the open wound. His fingers felt the soft tissues of your heart.
-give this to Her Majesty.”
It was only until you closed your eyes that your smile finally faded. Dottore collapsed on his knees still holding your corpse by the waist, one hand digging into your wound. The bloodied padisarahs were now completely crushed under the weight. With one swift moment, he tore your heart out. More blood splattered on the petals. His fingers were about to reach for your hair but your body disintegrated into moonlight, returning to the moon above. Unbloomed padisarah sprouts bursted to life and illuminated the garden with their white glow.
The funeral was held under a willow tree that grew from the place of your death three days later. Since there was no actual limp corpse to grieve over, the Harbingers just gathered under the tree in silence. Hours went by and one by one they left, only him, Pantalone and Pierro remained. Pierro had been acting like he had something to say during the whole ceremony, dilly-dallying by the glowing pardisarahs at the tree’s foot. After insisting that Pantalone returned inside without him, Dottore walked over to Pierro who was gazing at the flowers.
“You have something to say to me.”
The old man just exhaled through his nose and nodded as if he was mentally preparing himself for something unpleasant. He reached for the inside of his coat and pulled out a letter.
“This letter was written only last week. They handed it to me for safekeeping and told me to only let you read it after everything had been settled.”
Dottore held the piece of paper in his hands too calmly for Pierro’s liking. He patted his shoulder when he walked by, leaving Dottore alone in the vast nature, just like it should have been many centuries ago in the Devantaka mountain.
“You know, the other day, a group of researchers came here to study the padisarahs. In their report, they declared the samples here are the closest to the original made by the Goddess of Flowers.”
Pierro has been rambling on the bench for a while, hoping to ease the tension. On the contrary, Dottore does not make an effort to even look at the man behind him. The willow tree in front of him is a much more charming sight in his opinion. But this particular sentence from the old man irks him even more.
“When we first made the deal, I was just trying to get the best out of the situation. Her Majesty would have taken you both in with or without their repayment. It was convenient at the time to secure a failsafe.”
The II Harbinger turns his head to glare at Pierro behind the mask.
“I get your point. However, repeating the same thing every year does not change anything. Why must you insist on invading my personal space here at this exact time? It is not beyond your understanding that I prefer solitary on their birthday.”
Pierro lets out a breathy laugh. One of his feet inches closer to a padisarah.
“Supposed this is indeed impolite of me. But right now, I’m a grieving man just like you so please, forgive my lack of shrewdness. After all, to be a bit selfish is to grieve properly.”
He does not have time to answer as Pierro comes to admire the willow tree beside him and delivers a message directly from the Tsaritsa.
“Her Majesty relieved you of your duty until you find the right time to continue again. She gave praises to your performance in Sumeru, having retrieved two gnosises-”
“Ridiculous. I am not a child-”
“-Your seat and privileges as a Harbinger remain rightfully yours. The order will take effect starting from now.”
Pierro pulls out a box of cigarettes with a lighter from under his coat. The old man lights one up, offering it to Dottore.
“Take my advice, son. You are already selfish, being a bit more doesn't hurt.”
Dottore sighs and takes the burning cigarette from his hand.
All of his free time is dedicated to the search project in the desert. His troops have practically dug through more than half of the sand. His colleagues dub the whole thing as a new weird obsession born from being bored. As for Dottore, he prefers the term “reconciliation”.
Throwing the mask carelessly on your bed, he crashed into the soft mattress. It is very late at night but Dottore can't be more awake. Finally, he gets to feel the rusty metallic surface of the kamera against his palms. His thumb presses one of the buttons to flip through the pictures.
To be completely honest, I have been running away from my duties as an angel for far too long. My death is simply a responsibility so do not dwell on it, or else you’d hurt my feelings.
A smile creeps up on his face when he sees the selfies you took with your crow in his dorm while he was probably off to class. You first met her during the 91st experiment, naming her “Crow”. He remembers scoffing at the ridiculous title.
Forgive me for being the one to lie to you while holding you guilty of the same crime. So here I am, confessing everything just a little late: The Celestial nail had nothing to do with me but with the Tsaritsa's scheme to overthrow the Heavenly Principle. Our deal consists of me using my angel capabilities to protect the people of Snezhnaya should something like this happen.
Dottore doesn't know you captured so many pictures of him back then. Most of them are from afar or some sneaky angle as young Zandik hated seeing himself. He still does.
I imagine it must be difficult for you to build a defensive device with my heart as a power core, but this was the only way I could pull this off. You remember what I said about the authority of a Celestial being? I channeled my authority capable of controlling angelic power into my heart, sacrificing my physical body in the process. This way, instead of only being able to control the little power remaining inside my body due to the curse, it broke the boundary free and allowed my authority to control angelic power from all corners of the world. Of course, such powerful authority was inherited from my mother, Nabu Malikata. For that, she has my earnest gratitude.
Pressing the button more, the kamera takes him back to the Devantaka mountain. Initially, there are only blurry images of plants, flowers and random living beings you clumsily captured. He recognizes a handful of local bird species.
What does the smartest man in the world think of my solution? As for me, I consider this experiment to be a success. But enough about the boring stuff. By that I mean, I shall give you the real answer to the question you asked of me when I was eating candied Ajilenakh nuts on your bed, in your Akademiya dorm. One that you foolishly believed for the past 439 years.
His thumb halts its action when he sees your twelve year old self in the frame. Your nose was a bit red from the fever, so was your face. Next to you was a kid with the faintest smile he has ever seen. His stubborn red eyes reflected the starlit night easily seen from the Devantaka mountain. They were lying on the grass, fireflies hovering above their heads.
During my time with you, I felt my identity as an angel slipped away every moment we spent together. It reached a point where I even questioned my own origin. Angels are not beings of sympathy, at least, according to human standards. They rarely see past the veil of nobility to reach the complex web of mortal emotions. Only a human could love you like I did.
He can’t stop staring at your face. You hadn't smiled like this ever since you fell ill. Tracing his fingers on the screen, guilt bubbles up inside his chest.
My love for you extended far beyond the night sky at the Devantaka mountain, like how the Irminsul branches reach all corners of the world. It never withered away when your decade-long hurtful obsession with curing me began. Did I ever hate you? Yes, you were also the person that I resented the most. And so, forgive me for not being able to forgive your actions. It’s a shame your four centuries of atonement turned out to be for nothing.
How could he shamelessly take your innocence all to himself?
But I knew you were just confused and hurt, desperate to do anything. I could see it in your eyes when you found a suitable enough suppressor for my curse, your unadulterated joy shone through as you hugged my battered figure on the medical table.
The longer he stares, the harder it is to breathe. Suddenly, the picture is the last thing Dottore wants in his sight right now. His thumb frantically presses the button but nothing happens because this is already the last picture out of 1457.
This marks the end of my sinful confession. Now you also know the reason behind my curse. If I were to outright admit my love for you at the time, I’m afraid I would have been turned into a seelie like Koitar.
Dottore shuts the device off and puts it on the nightstand, next to the glass jar containing your heart. His thumb and forefinger relive the tension in his eyes.
May you sleep well under the moonlight tonight, comforted by the fact that you are loved for over four and a half centuries.
The windows are kept wide open for the rest of the night to let the moonlight fall in. He nuzzles into your pillow, one that will never have the grace of feeling your touch again.
Take out the dead flowers for me, my dear heretic.
