Chapter Foreword
Changed the labels. Also, this chapter's a pilot now since it's kind of a mess :)
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Pilot - Hello World!
I don't think people these days realize how peaceful and relaxing nature could be. Laying down on a pile of leaves under the auburn and amber canopy of a Sunbearer tree without having to care about how close you're cutting to the next assignment? That was the life.
It had been, what, seventeen years since I had departed from the mundane realm? Hit by a truck while leeching off a cafe's wifi to play the gacha game I had reincarnated into, no less. Honestly, waking up to find yourself exiting the womb and falling into the arms of a mighty and mean-looking Mitachurl had me wondering if someone had spiked my coffee with extracts from a particular cannabis plant—to which I have never tasted nor smoked in my life since I was a good little man going to a good little college.
I had hoped to laze a while longer on my perch by the lakeside, scratching my silly Hilichurl butt with but a care in the world other than what mushrooms and fruit I can scrounge up for dinner. That hope was but a brittle and temporal thing when a fucking rock spear from the heavens pierced through the waters (thankfully) around a hundred meters in front of me, (unfortunately) creating a great wave that towered over my prone form before thrashing me for several dozen meters inland. I was left like a sopping wet dolly from one of my dear little sister's collection back when she was ten—at least in my previous life.
So, regrettably, I must amend my statement: nature was peaceful and relaxing, aside from the gods duking it out somewhere beyond your lawn.
I spat out a mouthful of dirt-filled lake water with a sigh as another stone spear struck the mountainside a kilometer away, causing its facade to crumble into an avalanche of trees and earth. Purple and white thunder and flames danced in a distant horizon. Woe is me to have arrived at Teyvat during the Great Archon War that many but the participants themselves have but only a smidgen of knowledge about. It was just my luck that I had found myself kicking and screaming out of my mother's Hilichurlian womb into the veritable land of Liyue, or at least, future Liyue. I can't say that this place was quite a nation yet while the war for territories was still raging and the people were absent in tilling the lands.
I got up just as the voice of my mother as she frantically ran over from where she was evaluating the berries by another tree, red hair with streaks of black swaying in the wind. She was one of the older Pyro Hilichurl Berserkers, maybe a few dozen years away from being a Mitachurl of great renown within the Lake-Dweller tribes, provided we do not die by some Archon's stray projectile. She took a small pyro slime from her pocket then crushed it in her grip, then patted me from head to waist, warm hands drying my straw-colored mane and clothing. Then she smothered me with a hug. I love you too, mother.
"Sammy" she said, which was my name. Of course, it isn't my actual name, but the sound was close. My name approximated the meaning of "Moon Fire" since I was born at night during a fire, but I'm not here to teach Hilichurlian, so henceforth, thou shalt call me Sammy. And my mother, we shall call her Sadie the "Song of Fire."
"Come, we must head back. You are wet," she said. I nodded, ignoring that she had just dried me with her Pyro affinity, then went to collect the bags of berries that we had worked on so far and began our march towards our humble tribe.
As previously stated, the land of the many Lake-Dwellers mainly consisted of the Lake. And yes, the Lake is its name—Hilichurls don't often travel far enough to need to name multiple bodies of water so we mostly just stick to the common name rather than coming up with its own special moniker without sufficient reason (like the far shore we call Stone Rain Shore since it has so many of Zhongli's—no, it should be Morax around this time—stone spears). Plenty of mountains serve as natural walls for the inhabitants, and the particular spot where the Passionate Observers of the Calm Waters (who I shall be referring to henceforth as Calm Waters Tribe) was a cave with plenty of pretty crystal ores that had been the cause of some friction among the Lake-Dwellers.
Our arrival was heralded by the hooting voices of five other young men that related such information to my father, the Lawa, in a pass-the-message manner. Soon, a hulking yet tired Mitachurl stepped out of the largest tent just as we passed the gates. He was taller than all the others in our little encampment and had streaks of white on his mane, a Lawachurl or Lawa, albeit one still in the middle of transitioning.
His name was "Bearer of Cold Steel and Skin", but you shall call him Larry, not that you'd get to see me call him that enough since I always just call him Dad.
He held out a hand, to which I hesitantly took with my own and touched the knuckles of with my mask, a gesture of honor to an elder. It wasn't a ritual established by the Hilichurls, more like a thing accidentally I did back when I was young when my memories were still having trouble acclimating to a five-year-old Hili-brain. Dad found it amusing back then and never let it go.
"Good day to you father," I greeted.
"I thank the elements that my son and wife survived the rain of stone," the old Mitachurl said.
I huffed. "It will take more than giant rock spears and lightning to stop me!"
Dad's antennas wiggled with amusement as he gestured for the rest of the watch guard to go back to their positions. We followed him into the tribe, passing all seven families until we reached the Master Tent at the deepest part of the cave. Even there, the waters reached, gathering into a pool where we had built a platform to do our other rituals.
Vince (Collector of Wine) and his family approached us to take our bags of berries to the community pantry. We left it up to them and followed dad into our house.
The Master Tent was just a little bit bigger than the others, built using the fine quality cloth—woven by the Riverside Silk Farmers just a couple of minutes away from the Lake—and the various spoils of war that the previous generations accumulated throughout its journey to the cave. There were two main rooms: the tribe chamber and the family chamber. The decorations were cozy—all furs and heating stones (courtesy of Pyro slimes) and art pieces (made of animal bones!), interrupted by the large rack of armor and weaponry owned by the Lawa that sat a little ways away from the entrance flap.
My senses were quickly drawn to the giant Frostbone Greataxe leaning against one of the pillars.
Dad sent a warning glance my way as he saw me look and I shook my head. The last time I had tried to touch it, my fingers had nearly fallen off from the Cryo energy that had surged into my hands.
The time was dusk, hence why dad wasn't out and about, orally orchestrating the improved efficiency of the tribe. He sat down on a log and watched mother go into the family chamber before gesturing for me to sit with him. I obeyed.
"Son," he began, "it is time."
And then he left it at that, or rather, he said nothing after as if expecting me to know what he was talking about. Hesitantly, I asked:
"Time for what?"
I heard him grunt. Well, less grunt and more of a 'Hmph.' "Time for you to go on a journey and—"
"No, not a journey!" I shouted before I could stop myself. "Haven't you seen all those disasters happening outsi—"
"—to find a wife in the Eagles Flying over the Meadows," he finished,.
"Oh." I shut up.
The Meadow Eagles (not Flying Eagles because that sounds lame) was a Hilichurl tribe that would probably be a very big fan of Venti—er, Barbatos. See, they like the wind—and by that I mean the wind up there. One time I walked into their tribe's current lodgings and discovered that they were the damn inventors of the slime balloon, and beyond that, the wind glider. You know, this sort of explained why Venti was amicable to Hilichurls. I mean that's the least you could do when the inventors couldn't just walk into town to apply for a patent, especially when said inventors are seen as a little more than vicious and barbaric monkeys that can grow to the size of an elephant by the common populace.
But to find a wife among them? Honestly, I don't think I like any of them enough to challenge someone for a marriage. Not unless dad was talking about—
Dad finished the thought. "I'm talking about 'Existent Joy/Joy of the Present.'"
"Fuck." That was English. Alexa.
"Yes, your bosom friend Ah-lek-sa."
"Daaaaad!"
Man am I never going to be free of the embarrassment of having shared Mom's breastmilk with a girl from another tribe.
Dad chuckled at my expense. I stood up and kicked the log, managing only to hurt my toes, which made him go into a full blown guffaw. It took a few moments for the pain to fade away, and few more for him to stop laughing.
I sighed. "So when is the challenge?"
"Tomorrow afternoon."
"What—!"
Man, I really wanted to jump him at that moment, a good punch in the face or a quick smack on the temple—which was rather violent for my usual pacifistic self. Unfortunately, this was dad, a Lawa even if he's considered to have only just stepped into that realm. If I actually tried that, he would have slapped me onto the ground with one arm, knocking me out of commission and I'd wake up the next day sore but alive. Then he'd ask me if I wanted to do it again. Hilichurls and their stupid vitality.
I had to content myself with screaming inside of my head.
And so my dad, totally indifferent to my anguish, continued, "They came in this afternoon and you will see them at dinner."
By that point, I couldn't really say anything. The man looked so happy with having told me of the arrangement I had not consented to nor actively said I wanted to happen. I watched as dad up and went out of the tent to go back to handling tribal affairs and duking it out with dissenters (not that there were many since we are the Clear Water tribe).
Hmm. Maybe I could make myself disappear by tomorrow.
I had just finalized the plan to pretend that I was going out for a walk and get eaten by a geovishap or something and started to sneak out when I realized there was a ribbon tied to my antenna.
What in the.
"About time Sam!"
Ah. That was said in how I actually wrote it, not in my great and majestic Hilichurlian name. I turned around to greet Alexa.
"Go away Alexa."
The azure-haired Hilichurl woman "pouted" by putting her hands on her hips. You see, she was rather distinct-looking for a Hilichurl. For one, she was dressed in what you could arguably call a hanfu, except it looks easy to move in. Now that I think about it, it also looked a lot like a shrine maiden outfit. The point was it wasn't a kimono and was probably stolen from a hapless not-yet-Liyue citizen.
Another would be the coat with every inch covered in pockets that she wore—also stolen from a hapless human, though heavily modified to suit her utilitarian needs. If that wasn't enough, she also wore a handbag that she herself made, surprisingly enough. All these mobile storage compartments, however, always looked like they were full of something.
Her hair was also groomed. Us Hilichurls usually leave our mane-things to grow however they want, which usually meant that they ended up looking like lions' manes. However, she trims her hair and usually has it tied to a ponytail, albeit a wild-looking one.
Absently, I looked behind her to see where her bodyguard had gone. There was no one there. Alexa was a child of a chief, too, not to mention the gosh darn genius inventor of the slime balloon and wind glider, which means a missing security label for the successor of a tribe not known for their strength was an eyebrow-raiser.
At some point, I'd realized that Alexa was rummaging through my underwear, which caused me to panic and rush over to shove her away from there. The girl hopped onto the bed and watched with villainous glee as I frantically stuffed all my botched attempts at recreating modern briefs back into the hodgepodge amalgamation of wood I call a dresser because I wasn't willing to use a pot that was identical to own piss pot.
"What in the heavens was that?" she asked with mirth in her eyes. "Underwear?"
Man, I just want to wear something better than wrappings for my undies!
She burst into a fit of laughter. I stood there just shifting my balance and being ready so that she doesn't touch anything else. It took her a few minutes to finish her moment, and when she did, she gave me a condescending tilt of her head.
"So," I tested, "What are you doing here?"
"Oh Sam, I'm quite offended." She stood and clapped my shoulders. "We're getting married!"
I was definitely going to sneak out after dinner.
She brought her mask to nearly touch mine. "I know what you're thinking and it's not gonna work."
Fuck.
"Why not?"
"Because," she wagged her finger, "The storm of stone and torrents has reached the Mountains."
As if to punctuate, the cavern where the Clear Water tribe resided shook. I quickly ran out the tent to see tribesmen moving frantically and bringing sopping wet or injured Hilichurls into the healer's hut. I turned around and gave Alexa a look, which caused her to tilt her head in a quizzical way, no doubt hiding a shit-eating grin under that mask. Or she couldn't understand my expression from the look I gave her. Damned human mannerisms. Hilichurls in general don't use eyes.
I gave up. "What do you want?"
"What do I want?" she sent back.
"What do you—agh!" I held my head and groaned.
She giggled at my expense but stopped as I looked back and pointed at her.
"This isn't about the formula for bricks, is it?"
She crossed her arms, a Hilichurl way of going 'frown.'
"No," she replied.
No way. "Then is it about the schematics for the plane?"
She frowned. "I'd like to know that, too, but no."
"Then what is it?!" I yelled. "There's no way you'd be screwing me if you didn't want something!"
She said nothing. In fact, I think she stiffened. Nothing happened for a few moments after, apart from the ongoing disaster relief happening in the background. When she finally spoke, however, her words were slow and deliberate, almost measured.
"If that is what you think," she said, "then feel free to bring up the disengagement with the Lawa. I won't stop you."
She then turned and walked away without the usual swagger that she had in her steps. I watched her leave in confusion. Why did she suddenly leave? I went back into my house and hopped onto the bed, burying my head into the pillow to cool out the accumulated stress of the sudden series of events happening in my life.
Five minutes later, I jumped off and walked up to a pillar, bashing my head against it.
I fucked up.
—***—
A/N
Hello there.
One day I went into the shower and thought, "Damn, I don't think I've seen anyone write a Reincarnated as a Hilichurl yet" and since then, the idea hasn't left my mind.
Now you are seeing the fruits of my procrastination written in the middle of the last two weeks of my college semester.
Fair warning: I don't think this will update regularly. Motivation for writing this story is primarily amusement, and so I will probably only continue on this one when I feel like it. If you like it, thanks. If you don't, that's fair.
Also, this is an edit. I blame vibe check.
That said, I'd like for everyone to have a good day.