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Chapter 2 - Colossus of Still Waters

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Turns out hilichurls get their first masks once they turned eight months old. From what I've gathered, it's because they're usually able to walk around that time and the masks were to symbolize that the infant had finally found the strength they needed to face the world. To help them do that, the elders create a mask for the young ones to help protect their still-fragile bodies from the world until they can finally do that themselves. Mine was a bony white disk that was as flat as they come, which meant no stubby horns like what most of the adults have, with a simple Y-ish shaped insignia marking the center of its convex side. I'd felt positively bamboozled by it when I noticed it didn't have a strap I could use to tie it around my head, a confusion that only grew when the disk just stuck when I tested its fit on my face and peaked when I was able to pry it off without much effort.

Magic, I say.

The bed I used had also changed. Now that I was at the age of being able to climb over the crib barriers, a feat I totally did not do once or twice a month because I was a perfectly behaved hilichurl boy, the place where I would sleep had changed. Now, I slept in a stiff cot beside my mother in our single room. There, she would mouth off at me both her problems and fairy tales until I slept, which made learning the lingua franca much much easier.

A couple of weeks later and I'd reached a point where I had finally learned a good bit of hilichurlian. Not enough to actually speak it myself especially since my tongue can still only produce baby babble, but enough to follow conversations. The more complicated conversations still fly over my head, but what I got was enough to make sense of the "adult talking" that happens whenever our house would get visitors

Apparently, my name was Sam, a surprisingly human name. It was also coincidentally similar to my old name, Samuel. I'd like to believe it was fate but after my crib sister's early awakening as an elemental shaman, I was more inclined to believe that my mother had picked it up from a human or someone who's met one. Hopefully, the human in question wasn't dead or, even more morbidly, the reason why she had picked it in the first place.

My mother, meanwhile, was called Sadi, which I'd initially thought was Sadie until I realized that it was my linguistic bias speaking. She was a hilichurl Berserker with all that red hair and dark pyro mask that you'd see in Genshin. She was bigger than any Berserker in the game but also smaller than any Mitachurl I'd seen. An in-between of sorts. She even had more than a few tufts of black hair and quite a decent Amazoness bulk on her arms and thighs to indicate the physical transition. Occasionally, younger visitors call her Celi Sada, literally Fire Dance. I'd like to ask her if she was some sort of ceremonial dancer or something but my vocal cords do not seem to agree with me yet.

Other than that, the months in between were spent doing a whole lot of… nothing. There was absolutely nothing to do in the modestly spacious pavilion I had lived in other than to exercise my way back to the normal limb functions, stuff that you take for granted like your sense of balance and walking. It was perhaps a blessing that I got those muscles working pretty quickly at nearly the end of my fifth month, and I was basically running like a monkey by the next.

It left me with two entire months of nothing to do other than to suckle and eat soft fruit. So, like a regular baby I was, I decided to explore.

And explore I did and discovered that I was in the Liyue region.

Discovering that came with a funny story. See, the previous times I tried to sneak out of the room—and yes, you can still be a perfectly good baby boy even if you try to sneak out of your home undetected—I would always walk into this other tent pavilion where the floor shifted to solid stone, and beyond that, a cave. It had been a pleasant surprise to find that both of these areas were usually heavily patrolled by one or two Mitachurls, then a terrifying surprise to discover that my total volume amounted to barely bigger than their palms. It cost them less than a minute to just pick me up and take me back to the room during my escape attempts while my mother was away. Due to that, I never really got to know the outside.

So I had this big idea to go all ninja-like and sneak out at night. I'd let myself get caught a few more times exploring outside the room to familiarize myself with the layout and patrol habits of the Mitachurls. Then, on the day of the operation, I would do my damnest to tire my mom out by using her as a jungle gym. Then she would retire early into the evening and give me time to sneak out of the room. After that, it would just be a matter of avoiding the guards and making my way out of the secondary tent layer and then going full Assassin's Creed on the rest of the settlement we had. Perfecto.

...except it wasn't. I had grossly underestimated how hard it was to tire a Berserker. Mom kept up just fine and it was I who ended up passing out early. A wasted night, a wasted plan, a wasted opportunity.

Only for my mom to take me outside herself the very next day. Patience is virtue I guess, something I apparently did not have.

We went through the entrance tent pavilion's entrance flaps with me sitting on her shoulders and exited into a cavern that could have rivaled a coliseum on earth when it came to its sheer size. The cloth pavilion that I lived in for eight months was placed at the innermost end of the cave and was raised quite a bit higher than the other tents, which numbered seven in total. These other tents were all constructed in much the same way as my own, domed wooden things with cloth roof-tarps and stone for the foundation. On the opposite side was where the light of day spilled in; an entrance that suspiciously felt like it had once been a small crack that had been blasted open by something big that also left some mighty persistent ice on the cave lip, a particular detail I hadn't seen before with how brief my sightseeing had been with my escape attempts.

Trailed by a Mitachurl from behind with the other being left behind in the pavilion to stand guard, Mom took me down into the settlement proper. The hilichurls, no, people who saw us stopped whatever they were doing for a moment and both gestured and said their greetings to my mom. Hiding behind the adults or random obstacles were children that looked our way with curiosity. Thankfully, all of them wore masks, and instead of cyclops babies all I could see were essentially chibified hilichurls with how small their bodies were compared to their heads, those that could walk at least. Most adults were out and about busy doing what they need to for the day while the children did children things that kinda looked stupid—

I turned to my mom, who was watching where I was looking, and shook my head. No, I was not playing with these babies. Mom, for her part, barked in laughter at my silent petition but seemed to understand as we quickly carried on.

The first thing that hit me was the cold wind that smelled very much like rocks and greenery. And then the sights—the cave opening provided a view for a grand freshwater mirror of the sky surrounded by hills from nearly every side apart from the river mouth that hailed from much flatter terrain. Out to the East, over the hills, I could clearly see the infinite blue of the ocean while to the North of that was a series of high mountains—

Wait, what the fuck is that?

The entire region up North was shrouded in some kind of frosty haze. I could tell that there were a lot of mountains because of the silhouettes, but no other features of the land could be distinguished. Besides that, there was a separate mountain that stuck out a bit South of the blizzard. It was covered in greenery despite its height and there was a tiny thing that was glowing atop of it that emitted a lot of light. I only knew of one thing that looked like that in the game and it required a whole quest chain that involved melting a bunch of blue ice using red crystals, and it was—wait I forgot what it was called.

Point is, that place was Dragonspine and it wasn't covered in snow.

That was, that is, that meant—

I decided not to think about it.

"Sam," my mom called, directing my attention back to the plateau leading to the mouth of the cave.

I looked back to see that the area was decidedly well-fortified. Tall spiked fences were driven into the ground and surrounded the place like a fortress, interrupted only by the signature hilichurl archer towers for the sentries, each of which was manned by a pair Electro and Pyro archers. On the ground were a dozen Mitachurls, a few standing guard by the gate, others stood as noisy spectators of a pair that were brawling it out at a circle drawn using stones.

I looked at the big white rock formation at the head of the arena and did a double-take. It wasn't a rock. Sitting atop a stone throne was the hulking frame of an absolutely massive Frostarm Lawachurl. The big guy barely moved in his seat, eyes… well, his eyes didn't move because they were just glowing decorations on his mask, but I could tell that he was watching the bout in front of him intently. On their part, the Mitachurls in the arena were working up quite the spectacle.

One had a big hairless scar running diagonally down his chest, so let's call him Scar for now. The other guy was taller than Scar, but also kinda lanky, so let's call him Lanky. Both Scar and Lanky were bare-fisted, but given that their fists are the size of watermelons, I would bet that their individual strikes would hit as if each were using a club instead.

Chanting and cheers came from the equally massive onlookers, all words I did not quite understand yet. If I had to guess, the crowd was repeating the names of the two fighters and goaded them to tear each other apart. It felt every bit as gladiatorial as the fighting pits I'd seen in movies, save for the fighters themselves being scarier than your average gladiator.

And then they moved. It was terrifying.

The two combatants launched themselves at each other like wolves, meeting in the middle of ten feet with the speed that no creature of that size should ever be capable of. Cheers erupted from the audience as the two went down. Their collision went in favor of Scar who was the heavier of the two, and Scar pushed this advantage by repeatedly throwing his fists at the thinner Lanky with relished savagery.

Somehow, Lanky was able to grab hold of Scar and pushed the meatier Mitachurl to the ground, resulting in both of them going into a roll. At some point, Lanky was able to stay on top. With the roles reversed, he began pummeling Scar much in the same manner of the latter, drawing more cheers and hooting. The fight started looking less like a wrestling match between two fighters and more like a conflict between two bears, a conflict that progressively became more and more feral where scratches, clawing, and pummeling spilled more and more blood. It was getting out of hand.

The Lawachurl did not need to speak. He simply rose to his full, terrifying glory, casting a shadow onto the two. Frost rolled off his mountainous form and bathed the two fighters. Scar and Lanky separated instantly.

Their escape came barely in time.

It was as if the heavens itself struck. The force of the Lawachurl's blow shattered earth and caused ice to erupt between the cracks. My ears rang from the noise, and likely so did many others. When the dust settled, all were silent.

The Lawachurl grunted, an act that fumed ice clouds from under his mask, and looked between the two fighters. It took me a while to realize that the combatants were trembling.

Mom suddenly yelped, which drew every supersized creature's attention towards us. I didn't really need to look to know what had happened. My bladder was now empty.

Then the Lawachurl began to tremble, causing the gathered Mitachurls to exchange worried looks—presumably as they were all wearing masks. Then a rumbling, deep noise permeated the air in an almost rhythmic pattern. I realized then that the Lawachurl was laughing. More nervous looks were exchanged. I wasn't able to pay any attention to that as my behind was suddenly slapped harshly. I turned to my mother, eyes more than a little moist.

How the hell are you able to pretend like this was just another Tuesday?

The Lawachurl finished his laugh and I looked back. He turned back to Scar and Lanky with much more amicable body language.

"The bloodlust has gone to my mind," the giant more or less said. Then he straightened his form once more.

"As Sentinels of Still Waters, you show no honor in settling your quarrel," he said. "For this, you two shall descend the mountain and live among the Lake kin. Leave your weapons and bring only the clothes on your back. Return only once your honor has been regained as according to tradition."

"Lawa!" It was a Mitachurl from the crowd, one of the older ones as he that had a bit of grey in his dark mane.

"I have expended all my patience Dunn," the Lawachurl replied. "Do not test me further."

Dunn the Mitachurl curled his hands into fists and trembled, but he remained silent. The Lawachurl nodded, then raised his arm.

"Take them away. The rest, return to your duties."

A different pair of Mitachurls which had flecks of red in their manes pushed through the crowd and took the exiles by their arms, then dragged them in a manner that brooked no room for complaint. I clambered over in my mom's arms to see where they would be taken, but mom turned me away. What remained of the crowd of Mitachurls dispersed into various groups. Some headed towards the poles made of wood shaped like fangs. Others headed towards where many woven baskets filled to the brim with fruit waited. The Lawachurl himself stepped down from his throne, which didn't lessen the magnificence of his size in the slightest, and stopped in front of me and my mom.

"Day be kind to you Sadi," he said. His voice sounded a lot more cavernous up close. "Is this the little Samu."

Ah so it was Samu, not Sam. Got it.

"Da. Samu has grown well."

"Valo."

Mom then looked down at me. "Samu, say hello to Lata Mon, your father."

I blinked, or at least I blinked inside my mask. I looked at the living mountain, then I looked at my mom, who was maybe up until his thigh at most. I then looked at my so-called father again.

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I decided not to think about it.

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Author's Note

Edit: Grammarly