Chapter Two

The Highlights of My Life

Hidden somewhere in the cliffs between the Whispering Woods, Windrise and the Thousand Winds Temple was his current makeshift home, which amounted to a small proper campfire – fire safety is important, ladies and gentlemen – and a well made tent nestled within a thick outcropping of trees that hid him well from any onlookers. Not well enough from any proper spies who were on the lookout for him, but enough that the normal unwanted guests couldn't find him.

He wouldn't lose the rest of his stuff unless they tried to pry it off him.

…Which, admittedly, wouldn't be too hard to do at his age. Hence the need for seclusion.

His sword however, a simple Dull Blade, that desperately needed a tune-up, he had hidden within the boughs of the Whispering Woods. Didn't want to be outside the safety of the city for too long without proper protection. The Hilichurls in the area, while weak as of now due to a recent purging a couple months ago, could still be right bastards when they wanted to be.

And yet, even while focusing on all of that, the monotony of it all – and yes, he realized how much of an oxymoron that was – left a question that still lingered in the back of his mind. One that he had pointedly tried to ignore for a bit, but found that he couldn't think of much else.

Every day for the last four years, he thought 'Who hated a no name kid enough to make his life a living hell?'

Far as he can recall, he hadn't even met anyone with that kind of authority to piss off. Living in a house from Wolvendom, one didn't have very many chances for social activity, let alone someone of noble lineage. And it wasn't like Dominic had some sort of legendary artifact. There was nothing to him other than the clothes on his back and a sword he left hidden beyond the city walls. His parents hadn't said, either, and they'd told him after a great deal of pestering how, at one point, they were previously some well-to-do adventurers with a decent reputation.

Dominic grimaced, trying to get the thought of both Franklin and Melony out of his head. His thoughts inevitably wandered back to them. He didn't hate them or anything but it always led back to the conga line of bullshit he'd gone through up until now. Of how they had died back when he was six, and how at seven, he'd the realization of how he couldn't stay in the city without fearing for his life from the 'unfortunate accidents' that seemed to occur wherever he went. Which obviously left the orphanage out. No need to bring other naïve, unsuspecting kids into this, let alone the nuns.

So he had been roughing it out in the wild for about three and a half years or so. Making his home in the craggy cliffs and caves and other areas that were mostly closed off from the elements. Moving to new locations every now and again to keep whoever had it out for him off his trail long enough to grow up and learn how to properly weird the blade in his hands, which was still too long for him to use effectively.

It wasn't much. Even he had noted how depressing the whole thing felt, how little that would do for him since he was but one man. Hardly anything you could really call a life.

But he would be damned before he gave what little he still had.

Regaining his blade, he went about climbing up the side of the cliff to save time on getting home, and quickly noted after the first minute to hide his weapon somewhere closer to camp. Him at eleven with a large metal weapon on his back and cliffs did not mix. By the time he reached the top some twenty minutes later, he was a sweaty, haggard mess.

"Definitely… got to choose… my hiding spots better…!" Dominic wheezed to himself, just laying on the rocky outcropping of the ledge to get his stamina back. His body felt as if it were burning, made all the worse by the injuries inflicted upon him a scant hour ago.

After yet another ten minutes and a mental note to himself to simply take the long way back and make it easier on himself, he stood and started making his way to a fair amount of trees that stood in the distance. More of a diverting walk meant to confuse any potential stalkers that might be following him. Five minutes later, when he made his way to them, he took a sharp left after the first tree and bolted towards another grouping some ten minutes away. Larger in size and much denser, which was overall confusing, since the game proper never had any of them in this location. Perhaps they get struck by lightning later on and get set aflame, with the knights or Adventurer's Guild reacting afterwards to deal with the issue?

Whatever the case, he was lucky that it was here now. Just another hidey hole in his repertoire. Though a part of him inwardly worried over what this might have meant.

In that short while, falling to a walk after becoming fatigued once more, he slowly brushed his way through the trees and tall grass that conveniently hid his little camp.

…Which made it all the more shocking when, in all of a second, he registered the two Hilichurls that were here, in the middle of his camp. Themselves becoming still as statues.

All three of them had a dumbfounded stare down between each other, more surprised at first than angry. Dominic himself was wondering how in the hell they had found the place, while they likewise thought they had found an enemy Hilichurl camp to loot, or some unsuspecting prey to kill and grow stronger from.

The spell was quickly broken when Dominic lunged towards them, grabbing his blade in a two handed grip to better wield it, and swung in a downwards strike. He had hoped to hit true and possibly down one of them with a fatal injury, but they had unfortunately regained their senses quickly enough to jump out of the way, the one holding some of his ingredients he'd dug up out in the wilds earning a gash across the chest instead.

Dominic cursed to himself. Now that they had gotten their bearings and, worse, wounded one of their own…

The second Hilichurl squawked in shock, watching its partner curled in on itself while clutching its wound. They turned towards the little human and furiously spouted what he was sure was various profanities in its language while pointing at him. Then reaching down and grabbing the most pointy rock it could find, tossed the son of a bitch it at him with the speed of a professional baseball pitcher that he himself just barely avoided.

Apparently his partner, despite their wound, used the opportunity to close the distance while he was occupied avoiding the projectile and gave him a sucker punch to the face, hoping to have him drop to the ground, or at least stun him long enough for the two of them to get the upper hand. Shame for the both of them that he had been in his fair share of scraps with other kids and a few nasty adults out there, saying nothing of others of their own kind. His father, despite his short time training with him, had managed to impart to his son the ability to take a hit when he needed to and bear with the pain. Coupled with the various asshats he had come across in his young life, and he had a pain tolerance higher than most his age in the city.

The blow made him take a step back, but Dominic had quickly righted himself, startling his assaulter and making them throw a second, more panicked attack that even he could easily dodge. Stepping into the swing, tilting his head just out of the way and adjusting his grip on his blade thereafter, he stabbed them clean through where the heart and lung were.

Wasting no time once they had keeled over, he moved onto the other who had tossed yet another rock at him that was a glancing blow at best to his upper arm, making him hiss in pain from the new gash on his bicep, but little more than that as he quickly rushed him. Dominic attempted to create distance by giving a hard side swipe with the weapon, to some success with it now adorning a new wound across its stomach but found himself bowled over by the creature from a gut check and pinned to the ground.

The remaining Hilichurl quickly wrapped its hands around his throat, making an attempt at cutting off his flow of oxygen. Basic survival instincts in every animal surfaced in him, and the foolish thing quickly realized its error in not knocking away his weapon when the strength in his arms, which had been waning between the beatings, the climb and the run were quickly regained in an explosive second wind as he slashed it in the stomach repeatedly. Opening several new wounds along its stomach and chest. To the things credit, it managed to stay on top of him without collapsing, but when he found himself able to breathe again, he knew it was a matter of time.

A quick strike to the side of its head with a hand had it falling over onto the ground, though not without them taking a quick swipe at him and hitting the side of his leg, eliciting a grunt of pain. It was clear with its feeble attempts to get back up that death wasn't far off, which itself likely knew, and had tried to get a good hit on him to make it a mutual kill.

In an act of mercy, which seemed laughable to Dominic since in the end, murder was still murder, he limped over and stabbed the blade clean through its throat. Feeling the resistance of flesh and bone as he did so.

Dominic reared back, taking a few staggering steps before falling on his ass gasping for breath. He felt a chill run up his spine, one that he learned was indicative of levelling up. He had finally reached level ten.

He remembered when all this started. When he naively thought of joining the Knights of Favonius. Now, having experienced fighting and killing as much as he had, he wasn't so sure. Having had gone through hundreds of them at the very least over the time he had been roughing it, he felt more like a killer or beast than a Knight.

A morbidly admirable number for someone his age, but the point stood.

Getting scrips would speed things up, but that actively involved going around the land searching for them and putting himself in dangerous situations. Something he wasn't prepared for in his current state. Even being around Mondstadt proper, the known risks were not worth taking at his age.

Lastly, even if he could work past the previous two points, there was the sheer lack of training that he had. Sure, he could swing a weapon around and hurt an enemy with the best of most motley crews, but he had little doubts that it lacked the skill and finesse of a properly trained combatant, let alone a Knight of all things. Chances were if he actually sparred against one, he would be handed his own ass in seconds.

Honestly, he would have been turned off from the entire thing and settled down somewhere making shoes, but he hadn't even the luxury to do that.

Right now, he had to in order to survive.

All of which was a moot point he constantly lingered on to distract him from the act of killing, he knew. Even as the two Hilichurls faded into particles of blue light, the more resistant part of his mind desperately tried to maintain that illusion for the sake of his sanity.

A short time later and he was sat on the only log he had felled himself for the added seat, and just sat there for a few minutes in the fading light to get his mind back in order. When that did fairly little, the battle and blood and death still in his mind, he tentatively went about starting the fire and laid down in his worn-down blankets in the tent to hopefully get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.

It was only as the last of the suns light faded out over half an hour later that he was finally able to achieve it.

"Damn those bastards!"

"They burnt it all down…!"

"Wait. Did you hear that…?"

"They're still here!"

"Melony, take Dom and run!"

"Father, don't!"

"We have to move! Come on, Dominic!"

"It'll be alright, Dom'."

"Mother!"

"Everything will be alright…"

"Mother, NO!"

"Please… you have to survive!"

Dominic awoke with a gasp, snapping upright as he frantically looked about for shadows in the dark.

Halfway out of his covers, the feeling of a thick sheen of sweat covering open skin and making his clothing clinging to him slowly pulled him out of his frantic state of mind. The fire that he had set earlier, meant to deter any animals beyond the more bold or fantastical creatures still burned, albeit more faintly. The face that it was only a little subdued than from when he had started it told him he hadn't been sleeping long.

Dominic took a deep, steadying breath, running his hands down his face as he went.

It was like this almost every night. Rare was the day that he was able to get a full night's rest without waking up screaming in the middle of it. His nightmares came nearly every time he closed his eyes.

He could still remember the still smouldering ashes floating through the air as their home burned. The screams of his father as he was brought low from those unknown assailants. The blood that coated his mother, and him, from the wound one of them managed to give her in her escape. The sheer desperation in her voice as she begged him to live on and find new purpose as she realized in tears that she would never be there to see it. All while handing him the only thing she could give him.

Slowly, as if the air was water, he reached under his covers and grabbed one of the few things he was able to take with him as everything he knew or cared about went up in flames. The feel of the brassy gold metal that, despite being run roughshod through those events and likely many others before it, still looked brand new.

His mother's Vision.

It was the last thing she had ever given him, to remind him of them if nothing else. He had held it in his palm as he ran on without them, after having been begged to survive and live another day.

He'd seen the moment the green ball faded in color, signalling to him her demise. Now, it had gone completely inert. Save for small flecks of white light skittering about every now and again, it was effectively lifeless.

Some days, he felt like the now Masterless Vision more than he would ever admit.

There were no tears. He had gone well beyond that. Nor was there any anger, though that was likely the depression he no doubt had rearing its ugly head. More than anything, he was tired.

Losing his purpose in his family dying. In his home burning. Returning later, alone, to bury his family – the people who tried to give him that life filled with love – risking the possibility of getting caught and killed himself by whoever was after them to give the people whom he considered whatever form of burial he could, with them having faded into light like everything else here did.

The running. More burning. More attacks. Being made to live out among monsters. The cruel children with their beatings and the uncaring adults.

Yes. He was tired. Because, despite everything? Despite being on a new world?

Nothing had changed.

Beyond the newer elements – the physical gods, the magic, the fantastical creatures – There were people who loathed his very existence wanted him dead even though he'd done them no wrong. People who used and abused him because they had everything, and he had next to nothing. People who sneered at him for being the poor orphan that he was. The strange, poor, ratty child that chose to live out in the wilds rather than within the safety of the city, who was always covered in bandages and bruises and never bothering to understand the 'why' of the matter.

And he wasn't sure how long he could keep doing this. Despite the wishes of his family, and despite his determination to keep to it… there was only so much you could take before asking yourself why you kept going anymore.

He was alone, without friends or family, with a nation and people that could clearly care less what happened to him.

And he was getting so, so tired.

It was with a loud *PA-KING* that his Dull Blade had shattered.

Maybe it was the fact that it was old, having been in his father's shed for an unknown amount of time. Or because he lacked any of the necessary materials or skills to keep the weapon in a properly maintained state. Or misfortune from the blade being smacked by a club on the blunt end.

That, or the fates were still fucking with him.

'Let's be real.' He though to himself, dodging the next strike from an understandably incensed group of three – formerly four – Hilichurls. 'It's probably all four!'

Yet all the same, here he was. Down a weapon and… well, he couldn't say surrounded. These guys were clearly young for not even trying to attempt it. Maybe to protect their wounded comrade? It was dependant on how degenerated their minds were.

Such was answered in tandem when two of them came at him with the barest amount of control and intellect. One bearing their club high while the other, who was unarmed themselves, came at him with a hard right hook. One he dealt with by using the shattered remains of his weapon to stab it hard into the clubbed one's sternum – or where said sternum would be on a human anyways – quickly snatching their blunt weapon clear out of their hand as they fell and slamming it over the head of the other, cracking its mask. Though not without taking a retaliatory hit to the neck that paralyzed him for a moment.

Dominic gave a brief expression of annoyance rather than fear. Honestly, he would have been more terrified had they put more thought into it. The stronger ones, bearing significantly more willpower, retained more of their original intellect and personalities than their weaker, more animalistic compatriots.

A third one fired an arrow into his shoulder and elicited a grunt of pain. Their battle awareness seemed to end there however, as they jumped for joy and then grabbed for another. Recognizing that it hurt like hell, and he'd rather not take another, he was already on the move. Closing the distance as quickly as his little legs could. A quick hop to the left ensured the second shot missed, followed by another for the third, more hurried projectile.

The remaining Hilichurl panicked as Dominic took a swing at him, opting to jump out of the way and leave its wounded comrade to his mercy, of which there was none. Though to their credit, it grabbed one end of its bow and tried to smack him over the back of his head while he was occupied clobbering them into unconsciousness.

Pubescent level intellect, then…?

Damn shame he was already used to sneak attacks like this! Many a bow had already impacted with the back of his noggin over the years. He would have had to have been an idiot not to recognize the signs of one coming at him by this point; especially when it was so blatant!

Dominic came around with an underhead swing, twisting his body around and… found himself hitting at air. A sudden thwack to the side of his head and the sound of a weapon dropping to the ground made his eye twitch. He turned his head to find that the offending object had been tossed at him by the sole remaining creature, who had wisely opted to cut its losses and run. He was fairly certain that the infernal thing was blowing raspberries at him behind its mask but got enough of its intent through its two middle fingers it was waving at him as they bolted.

"Oh, that little-!" He broke the bow into pieces when he slammed the impromptu weapon and made an act of strangling the air with a pulsing vein on his forehead.

Dominic was genuinely tempted to chase the little blighter down and finish them off, but fear and common sense dictated he err on the side of caution in this case. For all he knew, there could be a Mitachurl or Samachurl mixed in with another unseen group beyond the crest of that hill. And with his leg and arm…

Overcautious he may be, but this was Teyvat for gods' sake. Just about anything could happen here. There could be higher ranking Abyss that could find him at random, which was a lose-lose condition for him in his current state, or the Fatui could ally with whoever was after his life-

…Okay, maybe, just maybe, he could admit that living alone for as long as he had without good company might be making him a little too introspective for his own good.

…Or crazy.

It was kind of hard to tell. Anything he said right now would undoubtedly be biased in his favor.

Though all of what he had thought was still important to keep in mind. He hadn't survived several assassination attempts without said paranoia keeping him alive.

'I still wonder how the Knights haven't come running from the rumors, though. People say enough about me to give justifiable reason for investigation, so why…?' Dominic thought blankly to himself. Eyes idly wandered about the area, having memorized most of it with clear definition after returning here for two months, the third time in the four-and-a-half years he'd been roughing it. One of the better spots in his opinion. '…Hm. Might be a good time to move again. Don't want to leave too strong a trail behind for them to follow…. Even if it's practically wildlands out here…'

Though that would have to wait until he dealt with getting his hands on a new weapon. Ol' Reliable managed to hold out for quite some time under his crummy maintenance, but everything had their end.

Especially him if he couldn't manage to get a new one. He had been lucky enough to find a few copies of the regular gray ones in some unattended chests out here, but he'd steadily gone through them all over time. The rest that wasn't a simple blade that required training he had sold, then subsequently lost the money of after getting jumped. No point in using something he couldn't understand. He tried a bow at one point and nearly took it to the brain when it ricocheted off their club, off a tree, and nearly went in and out through his ears.

He still had no clue how the hell he managed that.

It was a shame, though. That sword was one of the few remaining mementos from his family. He had actively held off on using it as much as possible, but…

Dominic huffed to himself, walking along to grab the gear of the fallen – he still knew how the systems worked, thank you – even managing to find a rare Wanderer card amidst the corpses, and made to return to camp.

To get a new blade, one would normally go to the blacksmith to get new gear or repairs. Standard stuff as everyone knew it. But, uh, surprising news? They had this annoying little law in place where if you were younger than fifteen, weren't already part of the Knights of Favonius as a Squire or didn't have the approval of a well-known teacher or adventurer, or a letter indicating as such, you would be barred from getting anything until you were of age. A safety measure put in place so untrained kids wouldn't accidentally gouge their eyes out or impale themselves on the pointy ends… or accidentally light themselves on fire from a Catalyst… or make the stupid attempt to train themselves by trying to slay monsters.

A monumentally stupid thing, that third case, but there had been stories getting around lately…

A death sentence in any other language for him. Like, what was he going to do? Have a fistfight with one of those shield fellas? Even in the hands of a child with arms like twigs, a sword was a sword. It offered reach and leverage for man to use both against nature and monster alike. Then there was the relief of knowing you had something to protect yourself when you were out here alone.

Surprisingly, even with all of that, there was a way around the issue. One that he hadn't known about until recently after overhearing a conversation from a couple of drunken, would-be adventurers that were coming from the Angel's Share.

And so, after removing an arrow, patching himself up as much as he was reasonably able to with his minimal medical knowledge, and making sure he had nothing on him that could be potentially stolen again, he made the long trek back into Mondstadt proper and made a beeline straight for the church.

He had never actually been, and for a variety of reasons. Though the main issue was because he was fairly certain that his assailants had people based there in secret. Once the whole debacle had started, he'd attempted more than once to try and get into contact with local authorities in one way or another. But… almost always, he'd either been chased out by one of the guards or priests before he could make it to the doors. And with all those shakedowns he had gone through in his time here, he wouldn't have been surprised if he had built a bit of a bad rep that would make them disbelieving of the situation.

It was why he was doing his best to try and build up his strength out in the wilds. He could at least try to fend off some of the attacks if and when it happened. And why, after close to four-and-a-half years since it started, and well over a year since his last attempt, he was trying again. Having foregone any tries in such a long time to make the enemy lax in their guarding.

…A part of him made a note to watch what he said when he got there, however. If he was too overt, all bets might be off.

The other reason was… well, he wasn't all that religious.

Yeah, he could understand the irony. Especially so, in Teyvat's case, since they had good reasons to. Their gods truly did exist, even if some among them did keep a low profile most of the time. Whereas his old world only saw theirs through prophetic visions or near-death experiences, which were logically suspect for some. But these guys not only walked the earth, they acted earthly, making mistakes and being human enough throughout the game for him to stay unable to reconcile them as the "Archons" or "Gods" the people called them. They had the power and long-lasting life, certainly, and the existence of the people might've been by their own hands, but power and age did not a God make. Their actions cultivated and image of them that made such things irreconcilable.

Keeping all of this in mind, he took a deep breath after he made it to their front doors on the eve of dusk, admiring the scenery for a few moments since this was technically his first time being here in person, let alone making it to the entrance without being intercepted. He quickly swiveled his head around for anything out of the ordinary, guessing he'd already been seen somewhere along the line but watching all the same, then pushed them open.

The room within was as opulent as he remembered, even as he acknowledged the difference between looking at it through a computer screen and his own eyes. Tall glass-stained windows framed by thick stone columns. Each bearing arches that ran into ceilings of various heights. The different sized curved ceilings and chandeliers helped to accentuate the room. The floors were cleaned to perfection, and humbly lacked any gold that most fantasy churches seemed to adore using.

All in all? No church on Earth could compare sans the Sistine Chapel potentially, having not been there himself.

He hadn't been anywhere back then, but the point still stood!

"Good evening, dear child." Dominic turned to find one of the several nuns – more than he had ever seen in the cathedral in game since this was before Varka's crusade – came towards him, giving a smile as she bowed. She turned her head cutely, showing a small lock of black hair mostly hidden under her habits headpiece. "Are you lost? Where are your parents?"

…And, almost predictably, his tongue turned to lead and his mind drawing a long blank on what to do next. Well, beyond the understandable notion that maybe he should have thought this through a little better anyways. He felt himself sweat a little as he thought of what to say. Did he tell a truth? A half-truth? Did he just lie outright? Was there anything he could convincingly get away with saying?

His forced self-exile did him no favors for his conversational skills, his secluded upbringing notwithstanding.

Eventually, he had managed to calm his nerves for long enough to stop and think. Even as the lady stared at him with well-concealed confusion at his long silence. As it stood, it was inevitable for someone to take notice of him – a raggedy-looking child covered in cuts bandages would've sent Child Services back home into one hell of a tizzy under the right circumstances – and, if he was being honest, he was surprised that the priests and knights hadn't over the last four-and-a-half years. Of which, you had to admit, even with the existence of traitors to their orders in service to another group and the standard jerk, it seemed more than a little dubious to keep it under wraps for so long!

And let's be honest.

He was getting tired of running.

So, steeling his resolve, he looked to the nun and, with a polite but solemn countenance, changed the paradigm and said "My parents have long since passed away, ma'am."

Her reaction said she had already guessed but was nonetheless solemn and respectful in response. Giving a small bow and miming a symbol across her chest. "I apologize. May Barbatos ferry them to their eternal rest."

He gave a small hum back, not really wanting to delve into old memories now.

"Do you have any relatives to stay with? Or perhaps a place to live?" She asked, and Dominic was almost tempted to snort. She likely knew full well that he didn't, and his shake of his head confirmed both. She leaned down to him, something he hadn't gotten used to again in a while. Hilichurls were about his height when they were constantly hunched over, and he'd spent more time being or acting like an adult to really acknowledge his physical age. "Well, there's a place that the church runs for orphans much like yourself. If you feel comfortable with it, you could-"

Dominic took a step back but made a point to look at her with a small, sad smile and said in a quiet tone that almost went unheard "I wish I could, ma'am."

She stopped at his words, and this time looked at him a little more critically. He watched as her expressions morphed from surprise to a quiet shock, then turned back to the smile she previously had. Though he would've been quite the fool had he failed to notice the worry in their eyes.

She managed to push past those thoughts, her expression returning to normal as she politely enquired "Perhaps you have come to pray to Barbatos, then? The church is opened to all, no matter their origins."

"Of a sort, I guess." Dominic replied. He reached to his chest, focusing for a moment. Slowly, a dull bright light began to glow from the palm of his hand, with it following said hand as he pulled it away and opened it towards her, revealing several white four-point stars. "I would like to make a Wish, if you are able to help me."

He tried not to smirk when she reared back. He really did. But the grouchy thirty-four year old in him just didn't care.

Fun fact: one could get around their little weapon issue by opting to give up these stars, better known as Primogems, to the gods. Something about the sanctity of the act and being given such items by the Seven was incredibly sacred to them. To commit to a wish, one could both head to one of the Statues of The Seven scattered about Teyvat – which wouldn't work right now due to their having fallen into an inactive state at some point. No one really knew why – or heading to areas christened as sanctuaries or places of worship by the Archons. In this case, said location would be the church, which had gone through such ceremony at the city's founding.

As he learned for himself later in life however, and the nun herself stated as she walked him to the altar after getting all her marbles back in the bag, wishes wouldn't always give you what you wanted. From what the Archons themselves had once stated at some point in history, wishes were a lot like dreams. Constantly changing, forever in flux. Most often than not, the weapons that came out of the deal were weaker than what most veteran adventurers had on them. Putting it together, he theorized that common and uncommon weaponry not only came up within the roulette but were more likely to appear than their rare and beyond counterparts. There was even the incredibly slim chance that you would simply get nothing.

Dominic understandably hoped it wouldn't come to that as the nun, with the help of one of her sisters, pulled out a massive stone chalice, while another walked up with a large glass pitcher to fill it with.

'…Would it be considered blasphemy if I admitted it looked like a fancy birdbath?'

"Please come and ready the necessary offerings." The nun brought him out from his musings, and he made his way up the stairs and stared into the small pool of water.

Even when coming here, the trepidation of being a wayward soul that somehow came to be in this world, made him quietly wonder if even making the attempt would be for naught. That his very being left him removed from their grace and blessings. He hoped it would work, make no mistake, but…

Well, he hadn't lived for as long as he had, going through everything he had in two lives, without fearing the worst.

Not like there was much choice, in the end. Either he got a sword or spear, or he would be a dead man in short order.

Or tortured through an extended period in some form or another.

Having come to that grim conclusion, he once more pulled out his Primogems, enough to make three wishes, and stepped back and kneeled. Holding his hands together in a deep prayer.

He might not have believed in any of the gods the way the rest of Teyvat did, but he needed all the help he could get right now. If praying to them kept him alive, even if only for a few weeks more, then he would gladly get on his knees and do so.

The Priestess, the one who had met him at the door, took center stage on the other side of the chalice, doing the same motions across her body and clasping her hands.

"Oh, Lord Barbatos. One of the Seven. They whose winds are as free as the lands freely given. I beseech thee." Her voice rang clear across the Cathedral. All others of the church in proximity clasped their own hands in silent support. "Give unto this child thy succor. Grant them thy blessings, and by your winds, guide them to freedom everlasting."

It would only be later that Dominic would note the prayer in its entirety. He'd never put much stock in that aspect – again, not really religious – but he could at least appreciate what was said.

Especially right now.

'Please…' He silently begged whoever would listen.

He hadn't been looking, having too steadfastly pleading for aid, but slowly over several seconds, the water and its contents rippled, the liquid turning opaque. Suddenly, the sound of a water drop echoed across the large room, and the bowl lit up like the sun before the entirety of the water-turned-light shot up into the air and through the large glass window in the back, rising in an arc towards the sky beyond their sight line. Hitting the clouds, parting them as it continued, fading off into the distance.

In the next instance, a sort of energy, a kaleidoscope of colors swirled from beyond the hole, before three balls of energy shot out like meteors, tearing through the skies like shooting stars, and straight on a beeline to them. Each taking their own window into the cathedral before coming to an abrupt stop right in front of them.

It was hard to make out through the blinding glare. Dominic could have sworn he saw some green and blue between the three but remained unsure as the light faded out.

The first of note among them he recognized to be the common Catalyst known as the Apprentice's Notes. He obviously wouldn't be able to use that. Among other things, you could only really use magic after you obtained your Vision, so it may as well be a paper weight to him, beyond being curious as to its contained knowledge and theories.

The second he was surprised, but dismayed to find was the Three-Star Bow known as the Messenger. With sleek reds and blacks covering the bow, becoming brass around the white handle. If he was going to use that, he'd need a heck of a lot of training.

The last was the somewhat fancy blade known as the Silver Sword. A Two-Star blade that looked very closely to being a carbon copy of the Dull Sword, but with more highlights and flair, with the flat of the blade being a shade of blue with four point diamond outlines closer to the hilt.

'Oh thank Christ, I don't have to try to brawl with them.' Dominic breathed a sigh of relief, his body unwinding as he reached over and took the blade in his hands. The weight was a little different from the silver alloy that coated the sword, but he was sure he'd adapt to it in short order.

As he was collecting the book, he found that same priestess walking over – walking in the church was either surprisingly loud, or his hearing was just that good nowadays – pausing to lean over and grab the bow.

"If I may…?" Dominic raised a brow but nodded back as he politely took the unusable weapon from her outstretched hand. "You said you have no place to live or go to, yes?" Again, he nodded. "Then where…?"

"Out in the wilds, ma'am." Dominic answered.

He almost snorted when she stuttered, a small amount of barely concealed dread entering her voice as she mentally began to connect the dots. "S-surely, you would find more safety within Mondstadt's walls, would you not? W-why-?"

He shook his head, and quickly put a hand over her mouth as she tried to press further, tried to make him stay and help in her own way, despite being ignorant of what he currently faced, beyond the sheer possibility of it.

It was nice to see someone worried for his sake. It felt like forever since the last time.

But it wouldn't work. It would only put her life and the lives of others in danger. A cursory glance from the corner of his eye confirmed that at least some of her sisters staring intently at the both of them. Whether they were friendly and curious or not, she didn't know, and possibly had no way of knowing just how tenacious these guys were. How many attempts on his life he had already avoided in that time.

Rather than say all that and make things all bets off, he instead said just five quiet words to her.

"It's for my survival, ma'am."

He stepped away, turning, and making his way toward the large doors. Noting again from the corner of his vision the look of dawning horror she held as the realization dawned on her.

'No backing out now.' Dominic thought somberly, even as the woman scrambled to her feet. Probably with the intent of stopping him from running off back into the city proper.

Shame he was already out the doors by then. And he wasn't keen to stop or let himself get caught or dissuaded at such a critical point, making a point to hide himself behind some shrubbery a little ways off next to the large statue of Barbatos.

He sneaked a small glance while trying his damnedest to remain unseen, finding the good woman scanning the surroundings and, failing to spot him, stood pensive while biting her lower lip in clear worry before hurriedly making her way back inside.

Now it would only be a matter of time before either the church, the Knights, or the assassins would come looking for him. Things were going to escalate rapidly in the coming days. Hopefully he would come out the other end of it alive.

After a few minutes once he was absolutely sure they wouldn't come running out, he kept himself to the ground as he crossed through cover to cover, quietly making his way down the stairs until he resumed a more normal pace.

All the while, as he made his way back out to the wilds, was a feeling of hope in his chest that he hadn't had in ages. At the possibility of a new, brighter tomorrow on the horizon.

It had been a while since he felt so alive.

Having written and re-written this out quite a few times at this point, I find that I always get new ideas and ways to structure sentences that I struggle to settle on.

Maybe I should get a beta at some point, just to make the process a little easier...

In any case, the following two or three chapters will come out every week on Saturday. Beyond that, depending on how consistent I can be (I work a night job, so some days I get pretty out of it) it'll either be every week or two weeks.

Let me know what you think of the chapters! Criticism and recommendations always helps with world-building and character development. Not to mention noting anything I might've missed.

Next Chapter: Sept 23rd