It was a simple tale.
Told plainly.
Told truthfully.
About a Phoenix who traversed the land.
Who drifted from one place to another.
Guided by the freedom of her heart.
She wasn't older than half a millennia.
She knew of the Archon War.
The spoken horrors from her parents had always lingered in her mind.
But she knew very well of the Cataclysm.
It tore her brother apart.
And left her with nothing but his ambitions.
Celestia's favorite be damned.
He used to be her rock.
A fortress of protection.
The one to keep her steady in the midst of the chaos.
And he was gone.
(Rejected by Celestia before her eyes.
And caught up in the final moments of a dynasty.)
He unbinded her from an unknown duty she placed herself in.
Or was it the Cataclysm that unrooted her from the things she called home?
The Tsaritsa knew her.
Knew her well.
She remembered first meeting the Phoenix at her borders.
Felt a flicker of their presence.
The Phoenix had given her one look.
Vibrant vermillion eyes seemed to glow.
And summoned a heavy claymore.
Impaled it into the cold ground.
"I don't give a damn if you're an archon, but if you touch me, I will kill you— somehow."
The Tsaritsa blinked at her then, before she laughed and laughed and laughed.
"Well then, I suppose you certainly do not wish to rest."
The Phoenix waved her off, "I'm not a coward."
"You aren't."
A truth the Tsaritsa believed.
Because this one was not here to stay.
Not here to find a home, but a place to pass through.
The Tsaritsa invited her into the Palace.
The offer of a nice pastry and a bed to sleep in.
A place to rest between one long, arduous journey and another.
But the Phoenix looked at her and waved her off.
"You're kind, Lady Tsaritsa, but maybe next time."
When she turned away, the Tsaritsa noticed a certain charm.
Latched on a belt across her chest.
A Vision encased in Liyue's crest.
A dead Vision.
The Phoenix took off.
Wings spread in such a beautiful shade.
Of vermillion tinged with marigold edges.
._._._._._.
The next time came less than a hundred years later.
The Phoenix came to say hello.
Bulled right past the First Harbinger like it was nothing.
The might of her strength had left many in awe.
The Phoenix stood before her, smiling as if she never did anything wrong.
"May I have that pastry now, Lady Tsaritsa?"
Like a child excited for a present that had been promised to her.
The Tsaritsa blinked once, twice, and held up a hand.
"Come, what kind of pastry do you prefer?"
._._._._._.
The Phoenix came and went.
Whenever she pleased.
The Tsaritsa didn't mind one bit.
Always ready with any pastry set to the side.
(The Phoenix had a sweet tooth that rivaled hers.)
But it couldn't be same for some of her Harbingers.
Her Eighth made it quite apparent how she didn't appreciate the Phoenix.
"That pyro-bird has no form of etiquette. Please, Your Majesty, let me teach her some manners."
Her First always had a twitching smile when he spoke of her.
"…To be quite honest, I would rather she used the front door and not fly her way up here."
Her Fifth often scowled in irritation.
"If I may, I'd like to bill her for the damages caused from her monster hunting."
Her Sixth didn't bother hiding it.
"If she calls me a 'baby Raiden', one more time—"
Her Second—
Well, needless to say, the Tsaritsa never did stop the Phoenix from visiting her.
._._._._._.
"Why do you travel?" The Tsaritsa asked her once.
The Phoenix looked rather rueful.
And spoke of a certain traveler she met long ago.
A traveler that felt like the stars.
Who searched for a way to awaken her brother.
Yet still full of open curiosity.
It was that same curiosity that incited that adventurous spirit.
That wandering that sparked a light in those vermillion eyes.
The Phoenix remembered that traveler fondly.
"She was a gentle spirit with a will of steel," she recalled, "I wonder if she ever found her brother."
The Tsaritsa could see it.
How easily her Phoenix could relate to such a traveler.
A treasured love between siblings.
The Tsaritsa was always amazed how strong her Phoenix and that traveler seemed to be.
(That traveler she didn't quite agree with.
That traveler that had fallen deep within the Abyss—
Another casualty waiting for the perfect moment to strike.)
"And you, My Dear? Are you searching for your sibling as well?" she asked her Phoenix.
A hand quietly rested over the dead Vision near her heart.
Vermillion eyes grew rather melancholy.
Weary in a sense that she was tired.
Weary of a weighty burden.
"No, My Snow," she spoke kindly, "I'm seeing the world in his place."
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(Soon after, the Adventure's Guild was founded in Snezhnaya.
Only for it to expand to the other six nations within months.
Open to those who wanted to seek a life full of surprises.
Seven Katherines stayed at the counter of each nation.
"Ad Astra Abyssosque," they'd never failed to greet.
"Ad Astra," a certain Phoenix never failed to reply.)
._._._._._.
"Why do you give my people 'rest'?" her Phoenix asked once.
The Tsaritsa did not dare to tell her to get off the railing of her balcony.
Her Phoenix had no regard for danger in the presence she trusted.
(A fact that the Tsaritsa noticed, and kept to herself.)
Instead, she joined her Phoenix on the railing.
Balanced with the grace of a thousand snowflakes.
"Time is never kind to those with such long lives," she told.
The Tsaritsa looked at her then.
Cold eyes peering at the dead Vision pinned to her.
"And wars caused many of you to fall."
Her Phoenix huffed, sarcastic and annoyed.
"Sealing us away is not rest."
The Tsaritsa smiled, "You misunderstand, My Dear."
She held out a hand for her Phoenix to hold.
To offer a promise she gave every single one.
"I simply offer them rest until the day my desire to shatter away the old world."
Her beloved Phoenix looked at her.
Vermillion eyes were wide, "To defy Celestia is insanity, My Snow."
Cold eyes were steady, "To run from Celestia is just as insane, My Dear."
A crisp silence echoed around them for seconds, minutes—
Until her Phoenix snorted, spluttered, and laughed.
Her balance compromised in her amusement.
Luminescent wings sprouted to catch the air.
And her Phoenix hovered before her.
"If I could, My Snow, I'd burn it all away for you."
._._._._._.
The Tsaritsa had considered to offer her Phoenix to be by her side.
As another Harbinger to reach their aligned dreams.
Of a peaceful world the old refused to allow.
Even consider gifting her of a certain power—
Something that was stronger than a mere a Vision.
But she would look at her Phoenix and keep her silence.
Phoenixes had fought enough wars.
How crude it would be of her to entangle her beloved Phoenix in such a way.
._._._._._.
It didn't take one a hundred years the travel all throughout Teyvat.
But for her Phoenix, she took her endless time.
Took in the moments of change within every nation she stayed.
Even disguised herself as a mere adventurer doused with the oddest jobs.
Her Phoenix still visited.
A fleeting presence that never stayed long.
Even when the Tsaritsa's love grew colder and colder.
(Just because that damn, damn Celestia moved ever closer and closer—)
Her Phoenix approached her, a smile on her face.
"Have you reached the end of your endless wandering, My Dear?" the Tsaritsa had asked.
Her Phoenix merely laughed, "Not even close, Your Majesty."
She paused a moment later, a smile still on her face.
A smile that seemed to slowly dim during the years.
"But I have stories to tell. Would you like to hear?"
._._._._._.
Her Phoenix didn't munch on her pastry once.
Instead, her elbows rested on the table.
Her chin rested in the palm of a propped hand.
"You know of love, don't you, My Snow?" she asked one day.
The Tsaritsa didn't bother to answer.
There was no need when she saw the familiar glitter in the vermillion eyes.
Instead, she didn't smile as she copied her Phoenix, "You found love, didn't you."
It was a blunt statement.
One that sent her Phoenix into a flustered mess.
One that made her dear Phoenix admit nothing but honesty.
Of how she met a curious mortal.
A soul among the millions.
And yet, she fell head first into her heart.
Even worse— Her beloved Phoenix had found that love in Mondstadt.
The Land of Freedom.
Where the Anemo Archon slept.
A place the Tsaritsa didn't quite like.
(Barbatos and his Freedom.
How dare he.
And yet, she couldn't blame him.
Not completely.
When even his own freedom came at a wretched price.)
But the Tsaritsa said nothing.
Instead, she smiled— even though she did not feel it.
And spoke, "Well then, My Dear, tell me more."
Her dearest Phoenix told her everything.
About how he was somewhat a noble.
Clumsy, but a passionate one.
A 'child' that wanted nothing but the best for others.
For her Phoenix.
"I have shown all that I could to my brother," her Phoenix spoke, "I think it's time to stop."
Her sudden declaration made the Tsaritsa pause.
(Almost made the very Archon of Love ask her—
To stay with her here instead.)
And yet those vermillion eyes were certain.
It was a different light in her eyes.
It yelled how much her Phoenix wanted to take that step.
"I want to try this," she insisted, gently holding their hands together.
The Tsaritsa closed her eyes.
Clung to her Phoenix's hands in a tight grip.
And so dearly wished—
That her Phoenix wouldn't dare to ask for her rest.
(Even though there was nothing she could wish upon.)
"Who am I to stop you?"
._._._._._.
The last time her Phoenix came to her was different.
It wasn't even that long since that day.
Only a handful of years that felt like nothing.
She didn't fly up to the throne room.
Her Phoenix walked down the grand hall.
Led to the foot of her throne by her First Harbinger.
The dead Vision was clenched in her hands.
Vermillion eyes were just as dead.
(It wasn't a mere visit.
It wasn't a mere chat.
It wasn't a mere—)
Those vermillion eyes looked up at her.
There was no light of adventure in them.
The smile on her face was nothing but an utter lie.
"Lady Tsaritsa," her dear, dear phoenix began, "Hear my request."
There was no endearing term they'd always used.
The Tsaritsa looked at her.
Deep into those eyes she had cherished for so long.
"…I will listen."
"Lady Tsaritsa, Archon of Love."
Her dear, dear Phoenix smiled.
Even knelt to the floor.
And bowed her head.
(Exactly how her Eighth taught her to do.)
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"Please give me rest."
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._._._._._.
Her Phoenix told her everything.
She listened to how her Phoenix fell in love.
So deep in love.
That she bore that mortal a child.
But she failed to survive.
She didn't realize how much of her own strength had left her.
How long she stayed "asleep" when her child was born.
(The Phoenix cried when she awoke suddenly.
Only to find herself face to face with screams of horror.
She escaped within moments, gone in an instant—
And hid herself away.
Before anyone could find her and call her a monster.
Yet, she heard the voices.
The panic.
The disbelief.
Her own husband vehemently declaring her dead.
Even as he held their child— no, son in his arms.
Grieving so deeply for the love he lost.
Because it hit her then.
She was too late.
Far too late.)
The Tsaritsa held her, took in every single word in utter silence.
"I didn't tell him," her dear Phoenix whispered.
Her Phoenix intended to wait.
Intended to tell her husband everything of who she was— what she was.
Intended to tell him if her child showed any traits of a Phoenix.
Intended to live next to him until the end of his life.
Intended never meant that it was certain.
Maybe she deluded herself into thinking she didn't have to.
She believed she'd live through it all to tell her truths.
But she didn't.
To live a life of a mortal without honesty.
Was not something the Tsaritsa knew her Phoenix could do.
A theater act that beheld simple characters and complex lies underneath.
The Tsaritsa ran her cold, icy hands through the dark silk hair.
Soothed the tangles of her beloved Phoenix.
(But she couldn't understand.
Why?
Why ask for rest?)
"Stay by my side," the Tsaritsa told her.
Ordered her.
(Begged her.)
But her beloved Phoenix shook her head.
"No. My Snow, I've made a grave mistake."
Even laughed.
A broken hallow laugh.
"I can't let my child live a false life of a monster."
It was a brutally honest truth.
One that had saddened the Tsaritsa when she finally realized it.
How tired the other looked.
How weary the other looked.
"When you wake up, I will be here," the Tsaritsa swore to her.
Maybe it was a lie.
Maybe it was a hollow promise.
But she didn't care.
Her beloved Phoenix made one last request.
"If my son finds you, please cherish him like you cherished me."
Her Phoenix sat upon the start of an ice crystal.
Half of her legs encased within it.
The Tsaritsa held her pale hands in her cold ones.
"I will."
Her Phoenix smiled at her.
A kind smile to preserve.
The Tsaritsa loved her dearly.
And because she loved her so dearly—
She stepped back.
Slipped her hands from her dearest Phoenix.
And sealed her away.
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._._._._._.
It was almost absurd really.
How deep the love between her beloved Phoenix and that husband ran.
Even though just a small handful of years had passed.
Maybe that was why a young man stood before her.
Messy ruby hair tied up in a low ponytail.
His scarlet eyes wrecked with worry.
Maybe even determinedly desperate.
Her First had warned her of this man's arrival days before.
The Tsaritsa knew very well why he was here.
Knew about the sweet child he raised under his care.
She saw how deep he truly wished for nothing but the best.
A trait her beloved Phoenix had spoken fondly about.
It was why this young man fell to his knees.
Even bowed his head low to the floor.
"Your Majesty, I need your help."
An honest, honest request.
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And the Tsaritsa smiled.
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