Let me tell you a story

Once upon a time, in a small farming village deep within the vast lands of Mondstadt.

A child was born.

One that will face great hardship within and without, one that will be brought into this world cursed with a great burden, one that will forge a legacy of gold and blood.

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Midnight.

The moon was at its apex. It watched the land below with an ethereal glow, illuminating as much of the night as it can. Such a task would be ever more difficult with the company of a heavy storm. The dark clouds would deprive the land of moonlight while the weighty rain would snuff out whatever light was left. The land was condemned to a cold and lightless state as the heavens shedded tears that brutally assaulted the earth, churning solid soil into a grimy soup. The wind howled bloody murder and trees recoiled back while clinging to their roots for dear life.

The winds tonight were not of the gentle sort blessed by Barbatos, for it was no more than a wild beast stampeding through a once gentle world.

In this natural madness, endured a home. It was surrounded by many others, a village.

The residents of the settlement did everything they could to remedy their situation. They shut their windows tight, they hid in spaces beneath their homes, and they even prayed to Barbatos to keep them safe. They did all this while the storm outside threatened to tear the very roofs above their heads. It was as if Teyvat itself had turned against them. But, among these homes, one had the most misfortune. For on this night, within the malevolent howls, an event that would shape the lives of a certain few would ensue.

A child was to be born

The mother laid on a bed with her husband and two other children standing by her side. One of the children was a boy who was already somewhat experienced in the process and assisted his father through the ordeal, the other child was a girl who proceeded to witness such a thing for the first time and could do nothing but follow orders in fear of her mother's safety along with her soon to be new sibling. It was an agonizing moment for all. Eventually, the new member of the family had finally been brought into this world. Tears were shed, laughter jumped about, and prayers of thanks were spoken to the winds. The mother was ready to see her child with an open heart.

But, there was an oddity.

While everyone revelled in their relief, the father looked down upon the newborn with a face of confusion, disgust, and terror. The mother could not hear the child crying, it was silent while the man held it in his arms while he bared that same worrying expression. The mother asked to see the child, but the father only looked at her and then at their children. His hesitation was not lost on them. He looked down at the child, staring at it like how one would witness a corpse. The mother's heart began racing with horrifying conclusions and this time demanded the man give her the baby.

With defeated eyes, the father handed the infant over to her... and she found out why her husband reacted in such a way.

He was a boy and was, thankfully, breathing. But, she noticed it. The size of a small apple and as dark as night, his left eye bulged out of his socket as it stared into the eyes of the woman with lidless abandon. Most of the head was relatively untouched by the eye's influence, but the space it occupied made it more than apparent. The bone around it was malformed and bulging, there were no eyelids, no pupil, nothing. It was just an orb of blackness that embedded itself into their poor son's face. She bursted into tears at such a sight. How could something like this happen to her child?

The others watched with silent frowns and unsure thoughts. The oldest child walked over to his new baby brother and saw exactly why his parents reacted the way they did, the same happened with the youngest while she observed the massive black organ that occupied her newborn sibling's enlarged left socket. The three stood and watched the woman cry for the boy. Then, something happened. While the woman wept the baby stirred, but did not join his mother in her tears like one would expect. Instead, he opened his right eye and looked straight up at the woman while he laid in her arms.

The woman did not notice the boy awake and looking at her for she was still drowning in sorrow. The boy did not know where he was, what he was, and why he was even here. But, he did know one thing. He did not like seeing whatever was above doing what it was doing, so... he began vocalizing and babbling hoping it would make the sound stop. The woman's breath hitched, her body held still, and her eyes shot wide open in shock, meeting the similar reactions of the others. She slowly turned her head down to face the source of the sound and her baby boy blankly looking at her. No tears, no yells, just silence and eye contact.

The giant black ball in his left socket was not normal, neither was the fact that his eyes...well... eye... was already open and focused, and neither was the fact that he was just lying there...

Awkwardly staring up at the lady who had just given birth to him.

...

The morning after, the father spotted the baby already attempting to walk.

[|]

The Speermanns were a strange family.

There was the man of the house, Karl Speermann. He was a tall man, taller than most and well built. He was a humble and hardworking fellow with a love for sweet flower, he prayed to Barbatos regularly and appreciated the little things in life. His long black hair would often be riddled with grime and hay by the end of the day and would never be found anywhere near a pub. He was one of the rare few that did not succumb to the temptations of alcohol for he treated his body like a temple. However, if you were to upset him, you would find a number of your tools and livestock missing the next day without anyone noticing.

There was the fair lady, Emilia Speermann. She was a petite woman who almost always spoke formally and exuded very fine mannerisms, so much so that many in the village spread rumours that she was the daughter of a wealthy feudal family who ran away for a reason that only the winds know. Equipped with a silver tongue, this damsel had little problems verbally manoeuvring her way through a battle of wits against others. Sometimes she would even throw down a word or term that no one knew about but her. Her emerald eyes often shown with twinkles of sophistication

There was the firstborn, Romer Speermann. Being the firstborn son of the family, Romer was known to be the most responsible of his siblings. Calm, soft-spoken, and the only literate member aside from his mother, Romer had built a reputation in the village as a form of peacekeeper/teacher. His mother did not enjoy being anywhere near other people and often reserved her ability to read or write for travelling merchants. Her first son, however, was both literate and perfectly comfortable with talking to people beyond blood. He would often settle disputes between arguing farmers, read incredible stories to people in pubs, and would even be found teaching children how to read.

There was the Daughter, Ida Speermann. She, like her father, was a mischievous woman who would almost constantly find herself in trouble but would almost always slip away due to the smarts she inherited from her mother. Quick-witted and highly capable, she can be found gambling, drinking, and outsmarting people off their pockets. However, she doesn't only harbour the ire of others. She, like her older brother, also has forged a reputation. Due to her ability to think better than most, she would often be called upon to assist in things such as repairing structures, orchestrating trade deals, and helping people with more practical problems so long as they covered her tab at the pub.

Then... there was him.

The second son, the third born, the cyclops, Hans Speermann.

When Hans was born, he had a massive black orb embedded into where his left eye would be. His family were distraught at this and expected such a strange and horrible thing to cut his life short... but that didn't happen. What did happen was something that none of them could have ever expected. His birth occurred at midnight during a particularly terrible storm. The following morning, he was found already attempting to walk. The next day, he was already walking. The day after that, he started running. Normally, it would take a child around a year to even begin to attempt to walk. Hans started when was barely a day old...

When was a year old, he was capable of lifting a full-sized chair on his own. It was a really heavy chair. By the time he was two years of age, he started trying to help his father with work and succeeded to a degree. When he was three years, he could reliably do almost half a day's worth of work with his father. The boy was a monster and unnaturally strong for his age. His family thought his eye would spell a short and hard life for him, but it never affected anything outside of his vision. The fact that he couldn't close it and that it was the size of an apple was still a problem, so they started wrapping clean cloth around his head to cover his eye. From that point on, Hans would never be seen without his signature hat which was once his dad's.

His life with other children was not a pleasant one. Children are often cruel and brutally honest when it comes to observations. His eye was an object of ridicule for most of his childhood, some even had the gall to say that he was cursed by the gods themselves bare such a thing. He got into alot of fights, all of which he won. Considering that this was a toddler that can do more work the some fully grown men, it wasn't much of a surprise to anyone that many if not all within his age would not be capable of even remotely besting him. Those children learned a hard lesson, but such lessons would be invaluable once they were adults. Hans, thankfully, never took it too far.

Until he did, but it wasn't on a person.

It was on Hilichurls.

Hilichurls... as in plural.

One day, when a group of travelling merchants were walking near the village, his family decided that this was a perfect opportunity to acquire some more luxurious goods and brought him and the rest of his siblings along to see how trading works. His brother was browsing through different books, his sister was looking for some quality alcohol, and his parents were buying durable tools and things like sugar, sauces, and spices. While his parents haggled, they were ambushed by a group of hilichurls.

When the hilichurls attacked, his parents grabbed a sword for each of them and told everyone to hide in the horse wagons the merchants drove in. He, Romer, Ida, and the merchants hid inside while his parents fought to protect them. His father fought simply and brutally, cleaving through hilichurls with his sword. His mother fought with grace unfathomable, she seemed to dance through the attackers than actively fighting them. It was very apparent to the merchants which one had a master to learn from. However... at some point... one of the hilichurls managed to land a hit on Karl...

So when Hans saw that, it was as if a switch had been flicked in his brain and grabbed whatever weapon was nearby by instinct. Said weapon just happened to have been a very VERY simple spear. When his father was able to recover from the strike thanks to his mother warding the attackers away from him, he saw that Hans had grabbed a weapon and was charging towards the fighting. Karl pleaded to Hans to get back inside, but what happened next would truly shock everyone there that day. When he was upon the hilichurls, the cloth wrapped around his head to hide his eye came off and revealed something... strange

At the very centre of the great black eye shined a cyan dot that spread throughout the rest of the orb like lightning crackling through a dark sky.

At that moment, Hans only thought about one thing; Protect His Family. His body moved automatically as if possessed, the angry cyan glow of his new pupil burned bright with fury. Spear in hand, he darted at the hilichurls at speeds that would be considered not to be even humanly possible. He was but a blur. As quick as lightning, he struck the first hilichurl warrior he could reach with the spear. And then another and another and another, every opponent had a thrust with their name on it. In fact, in some cases, he seemed to have been striking multiple targets at once. He bared no grace or rhythm, just simple, straightforward and direct in intent.

In less than ten seconds, Hans would kill fifteen hilichurl warriors at the age of nine.

After all was safe, the burning light glimmering from the eye snuffed out and He would fall to the ground unconscious. The merchants promptly allowed each Speermann to have three free items of their choosing as thanks for saving their lives. Karl got the tools he needed, Emilia got the spices she was looking for, Romer got his hands on three lengthy books to enjoy, and Ida got her hands on some quality Dandelion Wine all for free. Hans, due to being unconscious and currently resting on a makeshift bed at the time, didn't get anything. But, his family did get him a flute, a satchel, and that spear he used to kill off the ambushers.

After that ordeal, they couldn't get his eye out of their minds. Such a glow was similar to the power of Anemo Archon himself, they didn't dare hope that Hans was blessed. Such a thing was too good to be true.

But what happened was still utterly unnatural. That eye had something special about it, the Speermanns would continue to wonder which would lead to Emilia and Romer going through countless available books and researching what they could find about anything like the eye. When word got out to the village about what happened due to Ida's loud mouth at a bar, people started to see the boy in a different light. Many thought he was some sort of demon, granted unholy strength. Others believed that the boy was blessed by the spirits of the wind to perform the noble deed of protecting his own. But, some even believed he was a Vision Holder.

Hans would acquire a plethora of nicknames throughout his time in the village. Some called him "Cyclops" due to his one big eye and that big eye being covered leaving only his other eye. Some called him "The Brick" because of how his physique was something most men could only dream of. Some called him "Eye Ball" another reference to his eye. Some called him "Sir Stabby" because of the situation with the merchants. Some called him "Hard Hans" as a reference to his physique, again. And, finally, was the nickname that was the most prevalent. He was commonly known as "The Spearman".

What he did to those hilichurls would be the talk of the village for the next several years. Unfortunately for Hans, he couldn't replicate what he did that day. Everything just happened on its own for him, he didn't think about stances or techniques, it simply just happened. It was as if he had been violently pulled around by a series of invisible strings. Regardless, his mother decided that it was time to train everyone how to use a sword. Everyone but Hans enjoyed the training sessions for different reasons.

Romel was able to better visualize moves that characters from his books would use and Ida was just happy that now she can fight even better. Hans wasn't very fond of the sword, but he still practised under his mother's tutelage.

If only the moves weren't so weird. Hans could feel that something was terribly wrong with the techniques his mother was teaching, but he couldn't place his finger on it nor did he have the gall to speak against his mother. It was full of twists and turns that looked beautiful upon execution, but Hans felt as if this form of fighting was... stupid. It was not an insult to his mother or her teachings, but he simply felt that what he was doing was pointless. His mother could easily see the hesitation Hans would harbour as the training went, wondering if the sword was even right for him.

As the years flew by and as Hans continued to grow, he would become a beast of a teenager.

Like his siblings, he too would forge a reputation within the village. By the time he was twelve, he had become a museum of muscle. Dense as stone and as abundant as said element, the preteen was fully able to complete an entire day's worth of work for two men on his own. At this point, he decided that he wanted to contribute to the village like his brother and sister. So, he started assisting fellow workers in their tasks with speed and competence. Hans learnt many skills. He learned to sew, he learnt to handle livestock, he learnt how to repair buildings and tools, he learnt how to trade, and so on. Hans would be found helping others with their tasks throughout the day.

The boy was prized by his peers for this, a once gruelling task could be done quickly and with less effort on their part thanks to Hans' own. He had the strength to wrestle literal bulls, the speed to repair items and structures in record time, and the brains to be able to read and help people with letters and instructions. He was only semi-literate, though. He couldn't write very well. He would help his siblings in their own endeavours, such as helping Romel instruct workers with written tasks by reading them out and discouraging fights, and assisting Ida with repairing things around the village by hauling heavy materials and equipment.

But, he would mostly be helping other farmers who have personally asked for his assistance in tasks that would most likely sap the soul out of them or leave them injured. He knew everyone and everyone knew him, the same thing goes for the rest of his siblings. They did all this, essentially, for free. Except Ida, the only way you were getting her to do anything was to bribe her with beer. And so, the Speermann Siblings became valued members of the village and would often be greeted with high praise and welcoming smiles for their efforts. Sometimes, they would even be granted free food and be given gifts of tools and livestock as to balance their typically unrewarded efforts.

Hans' physical abilities were indeed unnatural, and topics about his eye would be a constant. But, ultimately, the people valued him immensely for his contributions towards everyone. Now, let's talk about his attitude.

Most of Hans more noble deeds were performed with... mischievous methods. He would constantly "borrow" tools from others without asking to perform tasks and had sarcastic tendencies inherited from his mother. Even though he did everything he did for free, he would almost always drone on about being swimming in a sea of gold one day and reaching for the stars. His ambition for fame and fortune was very prevalent for he revelled in the attention and praise from others after completing difficult tasks, often hyping himself up with praises towards himself. His ego was massive, but it was more charming than annoying because he could actually back up what he can do.

That, and he ultimately always has good intentions and helped people out of charity for the most part. Even if you didn't praise him, he wouldn't throw a fit like a spoiled child, usually, he would just leave disappointed and mumbling complaints under his breath. One of his incredibly well-known mannerisms was his almost religious devotion towards his family. If you were to insult anyone of his own, you would find yourself in a very heated argument with a preteen that looked like he could throw you out a window with barely any real effort. If you harm anyone of his own, prepare to be bound and tied up like a chandelier while he throws rotten fruits at you at breakneck speed for everyone to see and laugh at.

This has happened on multiple occasions. Hans may not hurt you physically... he definitely can... but he will hurt you emotionally and socially. His means of punishment are often cruel but leave no injury outside of lasting shame. And, there's nothing you can do about that since Hans is famous for his monstrous strength. No one dared harm any of the Speermanns after Hans' "demonstrations of retaliation" in fear of finding themselves to be the laughing stock of the town for the next several months. Stefan never recovered after "The Ball Gown Incident".

Hans was a man with a rough tongue and practised questionable actions regularly, but he was also a man full of love. Not just for himself, but mostly for his family. He prized his parents and siblings like no other.

One day, Emilia would tell them a tale.

A tale that spoke of a rich and powerful bloodline. One that once bared a noble title within the great walls of the Mondstadt over a thousand years ago and was exiled by The God of Freedom himself; Barbatos.

They, along with other lines of the Aristocracy, wandered the vastness of Mondstadt and forged their own settlements to maintain their wealth and power beyond the City of Mondstadt. The settlements would wage war against each other to attain more wealth. The Aristocrats, who have become Feudal Lords, would wage armies against each other to expand their influence and power. Among them were "The Richters". The Richters were the fairest of the lords... or as fair as a once tyrannical family could be. They were relatively well-liked by their own people and their chances of being overthrown by them were quite low compared to other lords at the time.

Unlike most of the remaining aristocracy, The Richters would be among the longest-lasting lineage of nobles in Mondstadt. Throughout the generations, they would accumulate great wealth and influence. They even entertained the idea of moving back to Mondstadt for a couple of generations until they eventually decided to build their own possible Kingdom. They were masters of trade, graceful warriors, and fair judges of their people. It had seemed as if this once Tyrannical bloodline was reshaping itself into something far greater. But, one day, another family of feudal lords decided to strike The Richters at their most vulnerable moment.

A great natural disaster occurred, a terrible earthquake that tore the lands and crushed buildings. The disaster left their fief in ruins and many of their people injured. The family of Richters at the time poured all their efforts into saving as many lives as they can and pouring much wealth into rebuilding what was lost. During this moment of weakness, another lasting family smelled blood in the water and mobilized an army against The Richters. Their lands taken, their wealth snatched away, and many of their own blood were left dead. Only a single Richter survived that day. A girl, the youngest of the Richters.

That girl... was Emilia Von Richter.

The children reacted differently. Romel was simply speechless, he couldn't believe that he was of noble blood. Fantasies from his books came to mind as he envisioned himself as a powerful and just figure ruling over others with benevolence and grace. Ida imagined herself leading armies of people to construct castles and cities, the likes none could ever dream of. Hans... Hans' mind went wild with scenarios that fueled his ambitions. He could see it, his family rising to power and accumulating mass wealth. Every one of them enjoying luxuries beyond their wildest imaginations and everyone living happily. This was the turning point in Hans' life, his life mission was set in stone.

He would fight tooth and nail to lift his family out of this life... and into a better one.

As more years passed, the siblings began to become even more well respected by the people. Rommel was seen and treated with great care and even decided to open a school built by his sister where he would teach children, adults and even the elderly how to read and write to the best of his abilities. Ida would spend more time learning how to build and began constructing better homes and defences for the village with the help of other villagers and her younger brother, bettering the livelihoods of everyone in the Village. Hans continued to perform inhuman tasks and would complete some of the most dangerous work the villagers have faced while he continued to grow into an unimaginable block of muscle.

Karl and Emilia couldn't be any more proud of their children.

However, Hans was who picked their interest the most. They could have never expected that their strange and deformed baby would grow up to be the incarnation of strength and good health. Some girls in the village would say that he looked handsome even, so long as he kept his giant eye covered in cloth. They genuinely thought that Hans would fall ill and succumb to sickness, but the eye did nothing to hinder him in any meaningful way. They thanked the winds, they thanked Barbatos, and they thanked the stars that this boy grew up to become such a dashing lad.

If only he stopped "borrowing" things from people without asking. They were still getting complaints of Hans taking tools from people without their knowledge.

The Speermanns were a strange lot, most villagers would agree. But, they were ultimately some of the best things to have ever happened to them.

Romel The Teacher, Ida The Builder, and Hans The Helping Hand. Though, most people still call him "Spearman" for both the incident when he was 9 and that it was a play on his family name.

[|]

"Hans!" Emilia cried out. "Would you kindly find some sweet flower? Your father will throw a fuss if he doesn't get it in his Lamb."

"In a moment!" The voice of her third child resonated nearby as he went through jars and boxes to find the ingredient. "Ok. I found it! I'm coming."

Hans jogged over to the pot where his mother was, her emerald eyes reflecting the light of the fire on which she prepared their father's dinner on. The sun had already long sunken into the horizon and the moon peered down at the world with its soft glow as Hans passed some sweet flowers over. His mother grounded it in a mortar and pestle as she sat on a log before throwing the smashed remains of the plant on some chops of lamb. The stone room was filled with the aroma of sweetness and meat. Hans' father had quite the sweet tooth and absolutely loved this particular recipe.

"I swear to Brabatos, your father's going to find all his teeth falling off sooner than expected." Hans' mother placed the lamb onto a grill evenly, the juices sizzling up into smoke the moment they rested above the flames.

"Is there anything else I need to get?" Hans quickly asked while rubbing his bandaged eye.

His mother caught him doing the act and responded. "No, everything should be ready." She looked at her son with a heavy heart. "Hans... are you okay? You've been rubbing your eye throughout the day. Your father has told me that it's been bothering you quite vehemently lately."

"I'm fine." Hans remarked, quickly placing his hands on his hips. "Me? Something wrong? Pshhh, Nah. I'm fine, I think I just need to change the cloth again..."

His mother seemed to buy it. Everyone knew that Hans' eye would itch occasionally due to dryness or unclean cloth. With it being entirely useless with him being completely unable to see with it, Hans toyed with the thought of simply having it removed. His mother was adamant about that being a terrible idea since such a thing would just be too dangerous to do. So, the eye remained. It required that he made sure to give it some drops of water and ensured that the cloth he used to cover it was clean else it would be a constant nuisance to his everyday life.

"Hmmm... Fine. Just ensure to acquire more clean cloth from a doctor during your expedition to Mondstadt with your father, hmm? I don't trust Dr. Klaus with his wares ever since a drunk managed to break into his supplies."

"Yeah, yeah, mom. "Ensure", "acquire", "expedition". You always talk so fancy..."

"Well, it's always important to exercise one's vocabulary! You never know when such a utility can come advantageous upon situations forthcoming."

Hans groaned at his mother's antics, while she simply chuckled at her son's reaction. This year's overall harvest was the largest in the history of the entire town and everyone was expecting a grand bounty within this week's trade. His father and some other men have been tasked to mobilize a massive accumulation of goods over the city where they would spend roughly a week selling what they could offer. Karl was to take Hans with him since tomorrow would be Hans' sixteenth birthday and he wanted his son to see the wonders of the city with his own singular working eye.

"Oh by Barbatos, mom! I don't even know what some of those words even MEAN!" His cries were met with only laughter from his mother.

Everyone but their father has already had their fill, mainly through gifts of food from other villagers. So, their mother took pity on the man and decided to brighten his mood with his favourite dish; Sweet Lamb, Roasted Potatoes, and Peas.

"Well... while you're making dad dinner, I'm gonna go to bed. Maybe sleep the itch off. Goodnight mom." He walked upstairs, slowly ascending since his heavy frame would cause much noise on every step.

While his mother also wished him a good night, he clambered the steps up to the second floor of the house. His siblings were already fast asleep in their respective rooms and his father was still out at a chapel praying to Barbatos with others. So, as he finally reached the top of the stairs, he crept his way to his own room. The rough familiar texture of the door met his calloused hands, he pushed it open and went inside. Closing the door behind him, Hans looked about the space. It was filled with a bed, a desk, a chair, a chest, and various unlit candles.

But, what grabbed his attention first, was the great long spear that hung above his window.

Every time he saw it, it reminded him of that day. How did he do it? How did he reach such blinding speed? How did he bare such strength? How did he exhibit such direct skill?

How did he kill fifteen Hilichurls at the age of nine with nothing but a pointy stick...?

He stared at the object for a few seconds, as he always did before resting. It was a symbol, a constant reminder of what he could truly do. His mother's training was very much appreciated by everyone, including him. But, the way she fought with a sword was not right. He felt it in his gut that something was off with the fighting style. It was beautiful, graceful, and precise... but it just felt wrong. And the eye... from what his parents and siblings told him, his eye glowed with the power of the wind... But, it didn't feel like it. He remembered what it felt like. It wasn't as if Barbatos had blessed him that day. It wasn't a power granted by any form of benevolence.

He wanted to kill. At some point during that battle, it became less about protecting his family and more about taking out as many targets as efficiently as possible. He devolved into pure bloodlust.

That was not some benevolent blessing. That was not some guidance of the wind. That was not the spirit of freedom assisting him in a noble endeavour.

That was not Barbatos...

He sighed and sat upon his bed, pulled his boots off, bared himself of his clothes, and wrapped himself in the woollen covers. He removed the white cloth wrapped around his head to reveal a large disfigured dark eye resting within his left socket, and threw the article to the floor. He stared up to the ceiling with his normal one, the one he can actually see through and swam through his own thoughts. He remembered his past well, even to the moment he could first walk. Most would not remember such a thing, but he did. He also remembered the things other children would say about him. The insults and rough observations stung within his mind... but one such insult rippled his thoughts... something a boy said about the gods.

"Am I really cursed?"

...

As he sunk into an ocean of dreams The Eye awoke as its cyan pupil darted back and forth, burning with glee.

The End...

Maybe...