Intermission 6 - I reach out for the halo far up high
3rd of the 11th Cycle
"So? Is it possible?"
"Does this house belong to you?"
"It does indeed," The old man said, "the woman who once owned it gave me all rights to the building before she left. But as you can see, she sealed it with magic and none of the Knights' magi could crack it."
"Every mage has a signature, you know? It's not very distinct, more like a handwriting. If you recognise the handwriting, you know the spellcaster." Mona breathed, "This is my master's handwriting, and I would be very disappointed in her if the Knights could crack her seal."
"Your master's? Does that mean-"
"The Hexenzirkel, yes."
"By the Lord…"
"This is a simple enough bounded field, by my standards. I will break it, and buy this house from you. A complete purchase, no strings attached."
"Of course, of course."
Not a minute later, and the bounded field was shattered. As Mona reached for the door knob, she paused. Something was wrong.
"Young lady…?" The old man asked.
"Stand back, Lord Goth."
She nudged the man down the stairs leading up to the door. Raising a mana shield around herself, she pushed the door open. It swung inwards.
WOOOSH
The door slammed against the wall, and a torrent of air rushed into the house. Mona nearly lost her footing from the sudden onrush, and bent her knees to stabilise herself. Looking down, she saw Lord Goth leaning against the wall, pushed by the wind.
When the house ate enough wind, she confirmed Lord Goth's wellbeing.
"You alright my lord?"
He brushed himself off, "Nothing I couldn't handle."
Mona entered the building, to see desks layered with papers and disorganised bookshelves. All in perfect condition, and not a single speck of dust. Connecting the dots, Mona had to laugh at her master's sheer thoroughness. She had turned the house into a vacuum, then sealed it in a bounded field to ensure it was airtight.
This way even after many years, the insides were still in pristine condition. It would do, Mona thought.
She moved over to one of the desks, and scanned the papers littered across the surface. Research on runecraft and formalcraft, very dated ones. Some of these equations were proven years ago. Mona would chronicle them, but to her they were useless.
"Lord Goth, how much is this house?"
The old man looked around the interior.
"200,000 marks would do."
"How about mora?"
"We don't use that anymore young lady, trading in mora is illegal now."
"Standard gold?"
"...Very well."
17th of the 11th Cycle
Aether wiped the blood off his blade.
Leaning against his longsword, he scanned his surroundings. It was winter in the Land of Wind, and the ground was covered in a layer of pure white snow. Here, up north in the Stormbearer Mountains, the snow was much thicker, in some places it was as deep as a man was tall.
Truth is, the Stormbearer Mountains were hardly mountains, more like a series of plateaus. They were once mountains though, a great range that connected to the Brightcrown Mountains and divided the Land of Wind in two - but Barbatos came and sliced off the mountains as if they were weeds, and all that's left of them are their bases.
Even with all of the Anemo Archon's might, Mondstadt was still a northern land, and the boreal winds still swept down from the Bone Mountains in the north, covering the Land of Wind in snow. As Aether gazed across the hills he had to admit it made a pretty sight. Fluffy and pristine white snow covered the ground, icicles hung down from the branches of dead trees like crystalline leaves. A true winter wonderland.
Or it would be, if all the dead bodies littering across the ground didn't marr the view so. Indeed, the white snow was dyed red with blood, and corpses were strewn across the snowdrifts. Aether inhaled the scent of spring.
He pulled his sword from the snow, and made his way to the blue-haired woman behind him.
"You know, I never thought I would see the fair folk in Teyvat - I imagined them to be more reclusive."
"Oh they are, but a war is being waged in their home, and so they are fleeing this way. It's our job to make sure they don't go any further."
Dame Lawrence was a beautiful woman, one of noble lineage. Despite being a woman, she was taller than most in Mondstadt. She offered an imposing sight, wearing a great furred mantle that made her seem bigger than she really is. Underneath she wore a riding dress, specifically tailored to let her retain her noble look - which was ruined by the steel plates layered over it, making it more of a battle dress.
Perhaps she was once a hated woman, simply for her Lawrence ancestry. But not anymore, for within the walls of Mondstadt and even throughout the Land of Wind her name is spoken in hushed tones. She was no longer hated, but feared.
The 'Spindrift Knight' they called her, if the spindrift was red with blood. Her Reconnaissance Company achieved widespread infamy for their relentless crusade against any and all Fatui that once plagued the Land of Wind. Any village that dared harboured traitors or agents were razed to the ground, their occupants hanged without mercy whether they be man or child.
Such were the tales told behind her back, and Aether was in no mood to find out if they held any truth to them.
"I take it this is a usual occurrence then."
"That's right." Dame Lawrence pointed north, "Across the bay is the Dandelion Sea, one end of a massive leyline that connects to the Light Realm on the other side - more specifically Arcadia Resplendent."
"You speak of a war that they flee from?"
"Correct. There are always two courts in Arcadia Resplendent, rivals so to speak. Either the Winter and Summer Courts, or the Spring and Autumn Courts. When one pair exists, the other pair doesn't. And around every five years, the pair would switch places - through a genocidal war. Come here."
The knight strode over to a fae corpse and knelt by it as Aether watched on in curiosity. She cut open the wrist of the dead fae and some of its crimson lifeblood spilled onto her glove.
"Their blood smells sweet, like of flowers and pollen. The scent of spring. Not to mention, their faces are rounder, and their eyes are green. These are spring fae."
"Which means right now the Winter Court is waging a death war against them."
"Correct. A total genocide, by the end of the cycle there won't be a single spring fae left alive. The same is happening for the autumn fae, the Summer Court is also doing the same. After this, for five years the Winter and Summer Courts would exist - and five years later a completely new Spring and Autumn Court would form, and the cycle would repeat."
"Do the states north of the Dandelion Sea face the same issue?"
"Yes, but not this time. For these are spring fae, it is only natural they flee southwards to escape the cold. Five years later, and they would be facing the issue of winter fae fleeing north I'd imagine."
Aether took a step back to observe his surroundings. The knights were stacking the fae bodies onto a pyre, to be burned. Some fae with more well preserved bodies were being loaded into ice crates, to be sent back to Mondstadt to be studied in laboratories.
"How do you know this much?" He asked the knight.
Dame Lawrence paused, as if tailoring her answer before responding.
"Fae are arrogant creatures, we have tried negotiating with them before, but they'd rather die than obey us filthy humans." She told him, "However, some are more amiable, and those who would obey the laws of the land are accepted into Mondstadt."
She paused again, before- "Eleanor, come here!" She waved over another knight.
"Dame Eula, what do you need of me?"
The knight captain reached for Eleanor's face and brushed her hair to the side, revealing slightly pointed ears. Not as dagger-like as the ones of the dead fae lying around them, but still obviously tapered.
Eula let go of the girl's hair, who then hastily adjusted them to cover her ears once more.
"As you can see, there are some fae descendants in Mondstadt. Your grandfather, yes?"
"Yes ma'am. He came south four-score years ago."
Before anything more could be said, the smell of burning flesh caught their attention. The pyre had been lit. There was a tranquil silence, under the moonlight in a land of ice and snow. A great curtain of vibrant viridescent light hung high above them, clouding the stars. It flowed gently southwards, like a river of luminosity. The Northern Lights, a sight only seen in well, the north.
The moment of peace was interrupted by the sound of crunching snow, and the frantic hoofsteps of a destrier racing through the woods.
A messenger crashed out of the brush, and hastily got off his horse.
"La-Lady Lawrence! An urgent- urgent message!"
The poor knight had clearly rode at full speed to their position, and was heavily out of breath.
"It is Dame Lawrence, Sir Conrad. I am a knight right now, not a lord. What is it?"
"For-forgive me, Dame Lawrence. The 4th Squadron- we were ambushed by a band of fae two leagues southwest of here. Seeking- seeking urgent reinforcements!"
"Two leagues southwest…" The knight captain muttered to herself, "That's the Valflower Vale, how in seven hells did they get past-"
She suddenly turned around and screamed, "All knights, on your horses! Sir Mathias, Sir Stefan, you two drag the bodies over to Stormbreaker Castle, bring Sir Conrad with you- rest of you, move it!"
In record time, they were racing through the woods and breakneck speeds. It was obvious to Aether that Dame Lawrence's personal 1st Squadron were very familiar with these forests - for they were dodging trees and brush without a single misstep. He took great pains to trace their steps by following right behind them, for the snow was a hidden killer. If he was careless, he might end up in a tree well.
Perhaps it was the adrenaline, but he felt like it didn't take very long for them to reach the Valflower Vale. The Vale itself was a mountain pass, a small peak rose to the south, and beyond that was a sheer drop down to Starfell Valley. To the north was the Hoher Heights, the highest point in the western mountains. There was a small lake in the centre of the Vale.
This point was of great significance because to the southwest of here was the only slope gentle enough for people to descend down safely, leading right into the Whispering Woods, and to Mondstadt proper. East of here were all sheer cliffs dropping down into the Starfell Valley.
Which means that if any fae, much less army, got past here, they would have free reign in the prosperous south - where the majority of the population lived.
The 1st Squadron, some 200 knights, slowed to a halt. They were atop a hill with their backs against the Hoher Heights. Looking down, they could see spring fae using magic to manipulate the lake to aid them in battle. The 3rd Squadron were all dismounted, their horses nowhere to be seen.
The 1st Squadron got into position, a neat rectangle with Dame Lawrence at the front. Aether himself was on the side to the rear, for he was inexperienced and preferred not to get in their way.
A horn was blown - once, twice, three times. All knights, charge.
They thundered down the hillside, the centre gaining speed faster than the flanks, and in well practised efficiency the rectangle turned to a wedge. They lowered their lances, killing points glinting in the moonlight.
And rode into the backs of the fae, scything through them as if through wheat. Spring blood scattered into the air and splattered across the snow as the knights trampled the fae into paste, their destriers' steel clad bodies crushing the fae under their weight. There was no mercy, those who surrendered were cut down just the same as those who fought back defiantly.
Aether plunged his lance into the body of a female fae, spearing her as if she was meat on a skewer. He tried to pull out, but the lance was embedded too deeply - so instead he plunged the lance downwards, pinning the fae into the ground. Just as the knights taught him to.
He unsheathed his cavalry sabre, curved and designed to slice through flesh at high speeds, and cut into the next fae in front him. It pierced the fae's moss and vine clothes and sliced into its guts, spilling intestines onto the snow. Aether felt a bump as his horse hit something - and then he heard the cracking of bones and the crunching of meat, and realised he had run over another fae and crushed them into pulp under this horse's sheer weight.
He winced, what a horrible way to go.
As his horse slowed to a trot and the adrenaline bled from his veins, Aether could admire what they had just done. The snow was churned into half frozen slurry, bits and pieces of meat strewn across the plain, giving the once white snow a pinkish hue. The knights were going around, stabbing corpses to ensure they were dead.
Idly, he overheard Dame Lawrence speaking with the squadron leader.
"Explain how they managed to ambush you, lieutenant."
"They hid on the southern peak, there." The lieutenant pointed to the small mountain that made the southern boundary of the vale, "Used magic to kill the horses right out from under us. We tried to retreat to the northern side, but they had also hidden themselves under the lake and got us from behind."
Aether scanned the white valley, and noticed several horses half buried under a snowdrift. Their steel barding's completely burnt through, and in some places he could see the white of their ribs. Other horses had arrows and javelin sticking out of them. One was strangled to death by vines.
"Treat the wounded and get them onto the horses, get the dead onto the sleds! We are returning to Stormbreaker Castle!"
As Eula shouted orders, a flower caught Aether's eye. Vibrant pink, and completely out of place in winter. He looked at his feet, and saw more and more flowers blooming in the snow, of reds and purples and pink they formed a carpet of paint across a white canvas.
The fae descendent, Eleanor, moved towards him.
"Fae are Elemental lifeforms, comparable to slimes. Spring fae in particular are condensed Dendro and Hydro, what's happening here is merely the decomposition of said Elements back into the environment. Beautiful, isn't it?"
"Are you half Elemental, then?"
"Nope, that was disproven by Captain Albedo some years ago. Come on, let's get back to base."
The Teilt River split the Stormbearer Mountains into east and west, running from its source in the Niedrig Heights down to Dornman Bay in the north. The river was formed by a melting glacier thousands of years ago, when the Anemo Archon first terraformed the land. Said glacier had long melted, but winter snows and high average rainfall has kept the river from drying up.
It was the lifeline for the local populace, as the Teilt River provided them food and water. Fishing was the main industry, for the soil in the Stormbearer Mountains was thin and barren. As such, many fishing villages lined the river, with the local capital being the town of Damberg, which overlooked the only stone bridge across the river.
That was their destination, but while travelling downriver to Damberg, they chanced upon a haunting sight.
A fishing village, with no more than two dozen dwellings. A small chapel rose from the thatch roofs of the houses, possessing the classic Mondstadt spires even when built of wood. And yet what once must've been a thriving settlement was a ghost town.
The buildings' wooden frames were starting to show signs of rot, the chapel's roof had collapsed under the weight of accumulated snow. The fishing piers too, had broken under the weight of snow, their wooden planks green with moss and algae under the river surface.
A gallows dominated the village's central square, and though it was empty the nooses showed signs of use. The ropes swung idly in the light breeze.
"What happened here?" He questioned. For even though the knights were giving him looks of 'don't ask' and 'read the atmosphere' he couldn't find it in himself to care.
"They had harboured runaway Fatui in exchange for mora." Eula replied, "So we hung them in accordance with Favonian Law."
"...All of them?"
"The Fatui had thought that by getting all the villagers involved they could incriminate everyone, and that we couldn't possibly hang an entire village." The knight captain spoke impassively, "They were wrong."
Aether had seen the horrors of war before, and was no stranger to it. But even he couldn't help but be aghast at the sheer act of brutality the Knight's had perpetrated. Or was it just Captain Eula's knights in particular?
"I find it hard to imagine that children willingly took part, there's a reason why every city has an age of coming, no?"
Aether hoped against hope that the knight would say something along the lines of, "Well of course we spared the children."
"Children are impressionable creatures." She said instead, "They don't forget easily, and what the children here saw was their parents being hanged for treason."
"You believe you spared them a life of trauma?" Aether didn't attempt to hide his disgust at the thin excuse.
"No." Eula Lawrence gave him a sharp look, "I believe I stopped them from growing up into heroes."
The knight captain pulled on her reins, and her horse started forwards. As her knights followed her, Aether stayed back and stared at the ruins of the abandoned village. How many children were hanged for the crimes of their parents? How many potential heroes had the knights killed to stop a future threat?
"To honour the Favonian Code, to serve the people, to protect the innocent. To be relentless in the pursuit of justice, and to be unfaltering in the face of death." A knight told them as he rode past.
"That is a Favonian Knight's oath, in that order. In a perfect world, we could comply with all of our promises, but this isn't a perfect world."
Aether's gaze lingered, and he saw the ghosts of children playing in the village square, as their parents watched on with smiles. He saw a fisherman bringing home the day's catch, to feed their family. He saw a priest, preaching the word of Lord Barbatos to his believers.
He saw a squadron of knights enter the village with grim looks.
"And where," Aether murmured to himself, "does it say in the Favonian Code to place your chivalry above your humanity?"
20st of the 11th Cycle
"Winter classes?"
"That's right, your works are- well, groundbreaking, to say the least. And in every field too, astrology, theology, thaumaturgy, oceanography, there seems to be no discipline you haven't touched."
"It's not that impressive, I simply wrote down what I observed across my travels."
"Then you must've observed quite a bit. In any case, you are already well-known in Fontaine thanks to the Steambird, this is a good chance to spread your name in Mondstadt as well."
Mona wasn't so certain. She was a good researcher and magi, yes, dare she say even one of the best. But teacher? Like in all of her studies, she prefers to commit to a task single-mindedly until a satisfactory level. Perhaps an apprenticeship, where she could monitor a disciple until they were up to par with her standards, could be a possibility. But lecturing, to a group of students who may or may not listen?
"Look," Lisa tried to convince her, "this is a big event, organised by yours truly. Every major academic institution in the southern half of the Land of Wind has sent representatives - magi, disciples, alchemists. There are going to be students, yes, apprentices, but there's also going to be renowned and experienced magi. Can you really let this chance pass by?"
Mona could feel herself getting swayed. The main reason she didn't want to teach was her fear she would be lecturing juveniles - inexperienced scholars who wouldn't see the value of what she was saying. Perhaps she was being a bit unfair, but it was a concern she found justified.
"There's still a few days until the event starts," Lisa tried, "I can still list you down as one the guest lecturers. I'm sure many will attend, you are still of the Hexenzirkel."
"Fine." Mona relented, "Is there any subject I should touch on in particular?"
"Well no." Lisa told her while shuffling through her papers. After a bit, she pulled out an inked parchment.
"Here, every guest lecturer gets a maximum of two subjects. You'll get a trial class for each, and the more popular one will get chosen for you."
Mona looked at the paper, it was an application form. After dipping her quill in ink, she put it to the page.
Name… Mona Megistus. Affiliation… Hexenzirkel, Fontaine Circle. Subject…
She thought for a while. Something unique, that would carve her name into the academic circles of Mondstadt - yet also something interesting, to catch the eyes and increase her lecture numbers.
She scribbled it down.
"Only one?" Lisa asked her.
"Only one."
28th of the 11th Cycle
It seemed that she had succeeded in drawing suitable attention to her class, for her designated lecture hall was chock full of attendees. She could see the white and blue liveries of Mondstadt, the greens of Windrise, and the red and blacks of Dawnton. Representatives from all three major cities in the south were attending, though Mona didn't know if they were people of interest.
Mona did see Lisa at the back, and next to her was Captain Albedo and his apprentice Sucrose. She was sure they were quite the free advertising, though the famous alchemist must've truly found her subject fascinating if he was actually attending.
As her new students settled down, Mona cleared her throat.
"Alright," She clapped her hands for emphasis, "thank you all for coming. The subject of today's lecture is-"
A chalk rose and scribbled across the blackboard in bold letters-
"Deicide and Applied Blasphemy. Any questions?"
One girl raised her hand, a Windrise girl, Mona guessed. Windrise was a very religious city, firm believers in the Favonian Church - though there was a well-rooted heresy in the city, the Falcon Church.
"Is this allowed?"
What a ridiculous question.
"Even if it isn't allowed, you are still here. So why should you, any of you, care about the rules? You are here because your curiosity outweighed your survival instincts, a bad trait to have for a person, but a good trait to have for an academic. If, for any moment, you believe that any part of this class "isn't allowed," then be my guest and leave."
No one left.
Next was an older man in Dawnton livery. Must be an established mage, she thought. Dawnton was the complete opposite of Windrise, while the Favonian Church was a mainstay, Dawntoners choose to selectively believe parts of the Favonian Code - namely the bits about 'do what you want to, when you want to.'
"What makes you an expert on the subject?"
"Good question. I killed a god and inherited his knowledge." Mona could see many had doubtful looks, a reasonable suspicion. "If you don't believe me then refer to a few weeks ago, when the Sky disappeared. That's due to an Elder God taking notice of what I did, Barbatos is my witness."
Suddenly, hundreds more hands shot up.
"Yes, Elder Gods and Outer Gods will be included in this subject, if briefly."
Next was Albedo, Chief Alchemist and a famed figure in the region's academic circles.
"How would you compare your knowledge to that of Khaenri'ah's? Better, or worse?"
Mona saw right through him.
"In the art of homunculi?" Mona could see the alchemist suppress widening his eyes, "Worse. In the art of Khemia? Worse. But that's not what you're here for is it?"
She scanned the faces of all attending. Some were eager, at the edge of their seats, others were anxious, but all had that signature spark of burning curiosity in their eyes. Good.
"Right, I will now be listing all of the topics within this subject. All of you should write this down, and everything you see or hear from now onwards. I expect all of you to make your own observations and notes, peer-reviewing is encouraged. In the last lesson, I will provide my own papers, and you will cross-reference."
Most nodded in assent, and the rustling of parchment filled the hall.
"First, the Art of Apotheosis. This topic will be split into three parts: the Pillars of Divinity, Forced Apotheosis, and Artificial Apotheosis. Yes, there will be a practical lesson - we will be turning a hamster into a deity."