gi belongs to hoyoverse

same trigger warnings

why are you even here if you saw the warning before lol


You gaze at the master in preparation for an attack. Your armored fingers dig through the grip of the claymore and lift the weapon into a defensive stance.

Clouds high and grim are on the move following the harrowing winds that make the blades of grass sway with an enticing grace. The sounds they murmur are quiet like ice but are as steady as stone.

The master stood with apathy towards the seeping promise of rain. You think about the line of clothes that were threatened to be drenched again but purge the thought as the master raises his weapon in kind. He gazes back while pointing the glinting steel of the blade towards you.

"Warriors are their blades," you remember.

Tiny tendrils of flames start to crawl on the length of the master's blade. His right arm makes an enigmatic red glow beneath his suit.

In response, you reach for that feeling you thought you have forgotten. It has been with you since the day you made that awkward salute. It was a feeling of duty, a brief emotion of joy and determination. You grasp and hold it tight in the same way when you made that decision to head to Windrise back then.


While veiled in the shadows cast by the huge tree, bare hands dug through rocks, mud and dirt, unraveling a pale trinket one would mistake for a cheap talisman sold by a suspicious person wearing tinted glasses. You removed the mud and smeared yourself while looking at the colorless gem while thinking about the master, the previous acting grandmaster, the Traveler and that Person you met earlier.

You keep the brooch close to you while holding it carefully as the memories of distant past both precious and haunting poked you.


There was a time when everyone showed their reliance on your abilities. Always asking for your help, always calling out for your name on the most menial tasks. You answer kindly with a curtsy bow and a smile as bright as the sun. There was a time when they needed you.

Until that day sometime after the long Night.

They looked at you strangely, the same people you always shared your time helping with. When offered assistance, they would say they can already take care of it even if they were still obviously filled to the brim. You already felt that feeling of losing purpose when that beam went past by you and they only hammered it home harder when one of them called out.

"Who would want to be helped by that traitor?"

Visible confusion was drawn on your face, processing the accusation that person made. A person you do not see around these parts so often, you remember.

Realizing that your expression demanded some explanation to that wild allegation, the noble casually continued,

"The acting grandmaster died with you as the last person she was with." He faced everybody in the vicinity with shrewd eyes and pressed on, "Does everybody think it's odd that someone as powerful as the acting grandmaster lost her life so measly as it was so?"

You wanted to point out that the three of you were fighting an abomination the city has never faced before in the recent times but realized that it was your weak abilities or lack thereof was the reason that beam hit the previous acting grandmaster. Feelings of guilt started bubbling up and the terror of remembering showed in your eyes. For that person, it was blood in the water.

"For all we know, you're an accomplice to that harlot as well. 'The most horrendous the City of Freedom had ever faced' and where is that blonde foreigner? She probably brought those automatons herself to come destroy us that day!"

You acutely responded in denial, saying that the Traveler had her own mission that day.

"Then where in the abyss is she right now?!"

You thought about it as well, sweeping it right under the assumption that before she is the Honorable Knight, she was an adventurer as well and is probably too busy to help reorganizing the cluttered remains of the city.

You were about to speak out but you saw the animosity the rest of the people made towards you. Accusing eyes that were sharp as daggers ready themselves on stabbing you.

"Traitor"

"Get lost."

"Murderer."

"We do not need you. Nobody does. Scram."

You half-expected the Eye of God to protect you once more as the pain reminded you of the blows the enemy made on your body that night. But of course, nothing in the mortal realm will protect you against the unseen blade that cuts deep beyond what your shield can guard from.

For all the strength and toughness you thought you have to protect and help people.

Inside was just a frail person.

little girl

Your feet started to move back. Steadily. Hurriedly into a run. And you ran. And ran. And ran.

You reached the one place where you have one of your most cherished memories are. You remember the one piece of rose you handed over to the Traveler, her sweet musings that sounded pretty in your ears. You held your Vision, the eyes of the gods. You thought about its use to you and to other people. You thought about the misgivings this piece of peculiar significance had provided you for all the time it is in your possession. The feelings of hate you had towards it that you tried banishing away that night came back again.

Now with a new sense of tragic clarity, you decided to bury it all.


There was a constant blandness in everything you see since that day. Colors that reflect a sandy hue. The food you help prepare at the headquarters seemed to taste like munching on ash. The sounds you hear are like echoes of scraping a shovel under the wet sewage. The voice you try to reach for stops by your throat, making you spill out the little food you take whenever you try to speak.

You sometimes see one of your closest friends when you head out to continue some of your duties in your training. In all those happenstances, she looked at you with a worried face but you always get reminded of that Night and what those people told you. You keep seeing the face of Master Jean in her. With eyes glued to the ground, you start walking in a different direction. You did not want to see her hand floating in an effort to reach you.

Your limbs felt like dragging themselves in the waters of the abyss whenever you move. You felt invisible strings forcing themselves to attach to your being to continue play the role of a nobody.

You remember reading in the library that some scholars had proposed that the world you live in is in a constant spinning motion that makes the illusion of the sun, moon and stars traverse the heavens. You start to believe their theories to be more apparent as the world you see spins dizzyingly.

The world does not care for the state of a little girl like you, though. Time has kept its face changing. The light the celestial objects give out does not askew in the providence for something so insignificant and thus, all is right with the world.


The ground under the night sky felt colder than steel. The alley offering little light and warmth masked the world like a thief as you hear a ripping sound.

Winds that were as sharp as ice blew and you can faintly smell liquor and dirt as your breathing is halted by a phantom hand.

You hear a voice that contained words such as

mute

never tell

would not know

body

savor

little girl

You remember the face of a demon in a falling eventide.

You remember it saying that it will bend you.

The sun was already out but you get that feeling of waking up from a deep and dreamless slumber.

You snarled.

Hand as fast as lightning tears the interloper's all the way to the shoulder socket as a bucket of red spill over the ground.

The smell of iron diffused in the cold air of the tranquil night.

Not enough.

You remember a large shadow of a whirring machinery.

You remember ripping the cover of that thing off and stabbing it with something.

The thing screamed and it was satisfyingly addictive.

But not enough.

You push the thing to the ground and mount it while reaching for something in its sides. You feel something hard in your hands.

This would do.

Gripping the things in your hand, you stretch them mightily towards the endless depths of the night.

A spectacular fountain of crimson mimicked the one before in the central plaza of the city.

The sight felt like seeing something so wondrous and the awe you feel in your heart pulled your mouth into a beautiful smile.


The sun shied behind the clouds even further as the sound of clashing metals echoed in the prairie.

You see the very fast stab heading towards you as you set your blade to parry the strike. The master feints, and quickly flowed the attack from a different direction, leaving you defenseless in that spot.

You got staggered by the hit as he continued on the assault. The next attacks were far too fast than your eye can normally see and you frustratingly try to keep up on your defenses by guessing where the master would hit next.

You decide to make more space in the meantime to get some breathing room as you try to think hard for your next move.

"You have gotten better on dueling but I can still see doubts on your sword."

He raised his weapon in a guard and the defensive stance he poses invited me to attack.

"You hesitate, you lose. Now come."

You feel the fire in your bosom bloom once more as you raise your greatsword in eye level in a screaming charge.


A constellation of voices enveloped your ears as you feel the heavy resistance of your seat in the Grandmaster's new office in a sleepless morning.

You see the Captain in a heated argument with the Grandmaster, his usual free and loose form that reflects his Vision contradicted his present state as he continued to posit his argument. You saw the Chief Alchemist and the Librarian at the back with someone with a big hat.

The person sitting in front of you shakes his head in disagreement and said something you can't hear. The tone tells a different story though. As you see him pointing at you with an accusing finger, he explained something about not being fit, not having the virtues, a threat and something about a reversal of the status quo. You did not have a wink of sleep and was only able to drink a glass of water since the previous night. You get distracted by the sudden feeling of hunger as he kept on rambling about these things. You wished to raise your hands to cover your ears but your hands remained heavy as lead.

The offending sounds continued to bounce around the chamber as you instinctively look for something sharp to stop the (sources of the) voices. You saw the emblazoned shield and sword by the wall and quickly dashed for it as the invisible chains that hold you down in that seat shattered.

The Captain realized what you were about to do and chased to stop you, his arms struggling to hold your own as you reach for the weapon.

You looked at him with furious eyes for denying you a meal that should have removed this irritation and satiated your hunger.

He pleaded you to stop with a pitying visage as you notice vines try to hold you in place.

You easily break them with a twist of your body as the sudden movement threw Captain crashing towards the other side of the room.

The person with a big hat chanted something and raised her hand towards you. You momentarily felt a force stopping you and tried to break whatever halting spell she made. The sudden application of water disturbed whatever you were feeling though, as your body shook and collapsed in the realization of what you were planning to do.

The Grandmaster remained indifferent in his seat, hands folded in front of his face as the party hastily went to your side to help you.


Your body already got used to the temperature the waters offered. Senses were already numbed but you can feel the flow of the deep towards your nose and throat as your consciousness blends in the nothingness of the lake.


You felt a different kind of cold that passed over your body. The dissonance made by the warmth on your mouth forced a series of coughs as the wet sand beneath you made its presence known.

Souls of the passed were believed to be judged by the lives they had while walking amongst life. Children were told that living with their hearts in the darkness will lead them to the depths of the Abyss and turn them to hilichurls. The sound of your fits did not sound different though, so it would seem like that story was a lie.

Your hands felt like wet pasta but you still try to sit to face the one who interrupted your moment of solace.

You did not expect to see the Ragnvindr head drenched and gasping for air as he looked at you with a face of relief as if he was the one who was saved from drowning.


The downward strike was unintentionally stronger as you hit the guard of the master, this was just a spar after all. The ground was starting to crater in as you continue your own attack. When you start to lose breath on your barrage, he slid the sword in a parry to deflect the last strike, throwing you off with a roll on the ground. He then immediately proceeded to chain the attack with a flaming strike.

Calling the shield of stone will be too slow, you think while staring at the fiery sword coming towards you. You opt to focus the energy on your left arm as you try to deflect the attack by reinforcing the gauntlet. The parry was successful but your left arm has the conflicting feeling of numbness and being torched.

With the brief time of respite, you turned your energy to be channeled onto your weapon, the earth beneath your feet fueling the golden light that embraces the sword. The master raised his flaming claymore in a stance as the both of you inched towards another while looking for an opening to attack.

The duel resumes, glassy crystals forming and falling off whenever the two blades collide.

You have the longer range but he just skillfully weaves and is quick enough to reposition himself to get an attack. After a couple of skirmishes, you find yourself in a defensive spot once more as you feel the large maw in skill. The left arm feels like it was looking for something in each contact and the distraction has costed you a wrong step-in which the master took opportunity to get closer and do a big thrusting attack.

You panic and tried to use the reinforced arm again but was out of position to parry.

A sound of breaking glass was briefly heard as more crystallized stones scatter over the fields of grass.

The master beamed (in his own way) as he saw you holding a shorter glassy blade with your left hand in an attempt to block his previous attack. The flames continue to burn out the sword made of pure Element as it grow shorter for each passing second. You pushed back and used the shorter weapon to open and make distractions for your heavier greatsword. The reaction from the Elements had forced the master's own to lose the flames that coat it. Once the infusion ran out, he unexpectedly flicked the sword into a parry and caught both of your swords in a lock.

"That's enough for today."

"..thank you..very much," you tried to articulate between breaths.

You collapse on your knees in exhaustion as the master went away sheathing his sword.

You raise your head in an attempt to swallow more air as your eyes gravitated towards the cloudy sky. Your arms and hands feel numb. You see your fingers shaking while still holding the grips of the swords as the shorter one starts to fade away together with the light the other one emitted.

You hold your hand close as you thought about your Vision and remember that afternoon when you made the decision to pick it up again.


A couple of moons before, the master introduced you to his household as his new personal attendant. This was after a lengthy talk he had with the current head of the Order right after the day he found you by the lake.

The sudden inclusion of another member to the manor was a mixed bag at first.

Some of the staff were glad, as since the day you started living in the mansion, the master looked more..more cheerful to say at least. Some were still conflicted because even if there are times the master started greeting them again in the morning, the addition of someone that was talked about negatively almost a year ago was a little problematic.

It never lasted long though, as it seems your previous reputation as the 'wondermaid' became more realized when you help them on your free time albeit without saying anything.

As for the master, you assist him on sorting the paperwork that continue to stack on his desk. The table looked interestingly out of place as it looks brand new compared to more vintage pieces of furniture in his office.

One night, you were about to deliver a set of refreshments to the master's chambers to close the day. Entering after a short knock, you dropped the tray set when you saw the master and his right arm on separate places. On a sudden flash of movement, you went to the storage where the medicine supplies were stored and rushed back, hoping to keep the blood flow to the minimum while thinking of getting to the city to fetch the surgeons.

As you nervously get close to the confusion (and amusement) of the master, you see the lack of visible wounds. You looked at his shoulder, scars prominently covering the end of the stump. You saw the false arm lying in front of him, certain bottles, tools and small pieces of metal scattered in the worktable.

"I need to clean it before I retire, they said," he said with an unexpected ghost of a smile.

You looked at the metal arm more closely, not realizing the reason before that the master had never taken off the glove in his right hand.

You remember the Night and think about his silhouette when he approached you and put the pieces together. The design of the arm after all, resembles the mechanical grooves of a Ruin Guard's.

The sudden recognition had turned all of your senses to overdrive. Heart drumming hard and fast like how the ancient people once did to drive away the darkness that once engulfed the Teyvat in the same way the room had suddenly became an incarnation of the Abyss in your eyes.

The master was caught off guard when you covered your face, collapsing into a pile and screaming in horror.

He stood in visible panic, spilling the metal arm and the clutter of the table over when he went over to catch your sudden fall.

You saw the fake arm rolled over and you clenched your teeth hard. You feel your fist raising in a hammer, eyes filled with hate locked on the iron contraption. But just as you would start to move forward, the master covered you with his body, holding you in place. "I'm sorry. I didn't think that.."

Being held tight had disrupted your trance and the realization of what you were about to do came crashing in.

The deluge of feelings decimated any sort of control you had and tears that were held by a dam that was constructed that day by the lake broke apart.

Words started to form again in your mouth while trying your best to avert your eyes from the prosthesis and his missing arm.

"..I'm sorry, I'm sorry.."

He sat on the floor opposite to you and had a look not of pity, but of understanding. His hand reached for your cheek to wipe the falling tears.

"It's okay to be afraid," he began. "Just as how warriors are their blades, people are also their wounds."

You match his gaze, the night lamps showing more of his scars in view.

"Time does not always heal wounds. But the old adage is not totally wrong.

We fight, we hate, we aspire. But it is also in this battle that we choose to be the better one of who we were yesterday.

So that those wounds will become scars. And those scars will become our strength."

The memory of the stars you saw that Night and the feelings it bestowed upon you to protect whatever was left that day occupied your thoughts. The hue in your eyes that once left shone once more in admiration.

On the next nights, you started volunteering to help the master with his metal arm. And in one afternoon, you went to the large tree not far from the city to visit an old friend.


A large slab of stone was erected near the Seven's statue. On closer inspection, there are names engraved on the flat surface - names of those who were missed ever since that day. Shadows start to grow taller when you arrived. The orange light the sky blesses starts to turn to indigo as you get closer to the monument of remembrances.

You try to look at the names, but an ache made a dent in your attempt and decided to just walk past through. However, you did not see the person on your way and bumped on his towering presence. His attention elsewhere now set unto you.

You apologize to the individual and realized that the person does not look like He came from the city judging from His attire. You automatically proceeded to perform the usual courtesy on welcoming visitors from other places but then you remember that you were not part of the Order anymore, cutting your usual spiel in the middle while contemplating on resuming to offer help or to direct the person to someone else.

"There is no need to do that," the Visitor started. "I was just remembering an old friend."

His voice was warm but had a certain weight that tells a very long time filled with memories.

He stared at the slab once more, the direction of where He is looking at in line with the Honorary Knight's entry.

"Um, are you perhaps acquainted with the Traveler?"

"Yes, you can say that."

You both looked at her engraved name in silence. Bitter memories knock once more at the doorstep of the heart but for some reason, the stranger's presence provided some sort of reassurance.

When your eyes had adjusted to the light, you noticed some splotches of red paint spilled on her name. The rest of the names did not have such stain.

You excused yourself to the stranger and went to the nearby pond to wet a piece of rag. When you got back, you started scrubbing the taint on the otherwise clean marker. The paint seemed like it had been there for a while, the dryness made it difficult to get rid off.

As you toiled on cleaning the Traveler's name, the visitor remained placid observing your efforts on removing the smudge. Standing in an immovable order, as if He was a twin to the large stone. The sky further dimmed and the the lamp grasses that were latched in the boquet of flowers that decorated the park started to timidly flicker light like fireflies, giving out a muted illumination on the monument. The paint was really tough to remove without the right cleaning equipment that you used to have before but you stubbornly persisted.

Time feels like it moves faster when the sun is asleep and it has already been an hour since you started. You look at your handiwork and the results of your endeavor did not look that much as the smudges remained distracting.

Hearing the frustration on your deep sigh, the Stranger broke His silence and spoke,

"We had learned long ago that the sun, moon and stars will bear witness to a different face every time they rise from their distant naps.

Winds will fly a day in the east, the next in the west.

Stones sitting on mountains may tarry but the dust that covers it dawdles not.

Storms will strike a moment to scar the lands and the waters on the other.

Trees will stand until the seeder had left the living, but the color of the leaves will change as the moon passes over.

The world will always try hard to preserve its assertion but it still won't be the same way as it was.

Everything will tumble into nothingness in the End. Heaven and earth alike."

You thought about the words the Stranger said. You do not see His face as your back was turned but you can sense a distinct air of regret and nostalgia.

And fear.

But you did not like the implication of His story and a coarse anger made itself visible when you stood up and faced Him. You think of the owner of the first name in the stone tablet, the leader you admired. You think of the Traveler and her smile. You think of the master and his kindness. You felt like baring your fangs at a god.

The sharp sound of flesh hitting flesh disrupted the rather solemn tune of the night.

He remained unmoving, features of His face reflect the tone you recognized earlier.

Hand still paused in the air and eyes welling with tears, you whispered in a shaky voice,

"But even so...we remember. We try to remember. I won't forget. Never."

You feel the cool breeze as it passes through your damp hand and on your face.

The Visitor chuckled sadly and smiled like how a parent would (strangely enough).

"I'm very well aware of that."

He turned again to the slab and a golden light drew your attention again to the Traveler's name. The tarnished surface shed away the red marks and a new engraved surface grew like a sapling on the surface of the monument. The name was as new as the time it was chiseled the first time. The act had made a myriad of confusing feelings but gratefulness came up on top.

When you turned your eyes back to the Visitor, He was already gone.


You head for the master around the usual time when you help him clean his prosthesis.

Six points forming a constellation that protects one's heart swaddles the Vision shining in your pocket.

You know that both you had already stepped down as members of the Order. But you still held your hand in a salute with gleaming confidence when he opened the door.

"Please teach me the ways of the blade, master."


My reminiscing of the days two springs ago was disrupted when Master Diluc came back and touched my cheek with a canteen of cold water. I took the jug in a pout, the master seems to be really fond of teasing me like this.

"You've been staring in the air for quite a while, now," he said while sitting down on the grass and drinking from his own. "Anything you missed earlier?"

"Um, I still can't do the right timing on the step-in in countering a lounge. If it wasn't for that block, that could have been very bad."

"Ah, please forgive your aging master for forgetting to hold back."

I scowled at him for being such a chaff but he just chuckled. I could not hold my retort for that long though as my voice joined his with the merry sounds for the grassland to hear.