"Keep moving" A grubby voice sounded, and I felt the pain before I heard the blow. I fell to the ground, unable to keep my balance thanks to my hands tied behind my back. It wasnt unusual for slaves to be given such treatment. We are considered lower than filth to these men. They call themselves the fatui, the loyal men who serve the Tsarista, I see them as no more than a bunch of dregs.
"What are you lookin at, girl, get the hell up" One pulled me by my hair, and I almost bit off my tongue to keep from screaming in pain. I winced, my back already bruising I'm sure, with the wound I just got, as I dredged along the line. We, the slaves from the Dyrian village were now being led to the docks of Sumeru, probably to ship us to Snezhnaya from there.
My eyes blurred, and my head felt heavy as I thought about the future that awaited me. Will I be forever subjected to this derogatory treatment until the day I stop breathing? Should I try to escape? I bit my lip so hard, I could taste blood.
Will my father come save me? Is he even alive-
"Lets camp here" I heard the fatui commander say, while his right hand shook his head. "Master, we're ungaurded here, the desert is vast and we dont have enough men to keep watch, I suggest we -" They continued to whisper, but i couldnt hear it over the wind.
We had been dragged through the desert for almost a week now, and I could see our supplies were draining despite the slaves being starved. I looked at the one before me, eyes glazed, mouth open and gasping, eyes the water the commander was sipping on. The cruelty of life made me question why the Archons put us throught such misery.
In the current world of Teyvat, unfairness reigns. If you're lucky, you'll get a blessing of the gods, a vision. A vision not only gives you strength and the power to protect yourself, but also respect. If even one person from your family owns it, your income and social standing changes in a day. I wanted to have the power to protect my father, the only family I had left.
That is, of course, if you're lucky. I was born with no luck. I trained, and trained and trained, hoping my vision would come, but it didnt.
"One must face the cruelities of life to be noticed by the Gods" said my teacher, the man who taught me to protect myself. "It will come, child"
So I waited, and waited. Even when they came and dragged my father away, and I watched helplessly as they tore my limbs, and that man, Dottore, laughed at my pointless struggle, all I could think of was, is this not cruelty enough? My whole life is being torn apart, so where the hell are the Gods? Do I still not satisfy their conditions?
Screw them.
The harbingers. The Archons. Even the heavenly principles, screw them all-
The Fatui instructed us to set our camp here. Looks the leader finally acknowledged the fact the slaves were drained of energy and couldnt continue without rest after all. That means, I looked around. There were fewer guards, just like I overheard them say. Could I really escape? And go where exactly? Run around aimlessly in the desert until death comes for me? I laughed at my own foolish thoughts, and looked at the sky. For all the curses I threw at it, it smiled back with nothing less that a beautiful view of stars.
By the time we were done setting up our camps, we could already smell the food coming from the commanders tent. I tried to ignore the rumbling in my stomach and looked at the vast heaps of sand around me. Something felt… off. It was too silent, well yes, arguably the desserts are always silent but, "The wind, when there isnt a wind and the sky remains stark blue," I heard my fathers voice in my head, his eyebrows scrunching to see through his broken glasses, and the blue eyes of his darted from the page of his book to my face, "it means a storm is-"
"Its a storm! A sandstorm! Men, take cover" I heard the guard shouting. The fatui ran to the commanders tent, the biggest one, and the slaves stood in silence as the makeshift raft we built for us, with the trashed materials they left us, crashed down. I couldnt help but smile. So much pain, just how much more should I endure till it ends? I looked at the sand swirling around me, and my vision blurred. Maybe this is the heavenly sign I have been waiting for. This is the message the Gods have sent. A slow, but silent death, being swallowed by sand. I couldnt hold myself back as my feet edged towards the storm, I'm sorry father, I see no other way-
A hand grabbed me from behind and covered my face with a cloth. I looked up to see a man, with blazing red hair and his eyes, blue, just like my fathers.
"What do you think you're doing out here? Do you have a death wish?" He says, leading me to the commanders tent. I struggle to get out of his grip and hit him with all the strength I have. Which thanks to weeks of starving, isnt much.
"I would rather die than be around the likes of you Fatui" I spit at him, not bothering to hide the distaste in my words. He just arches his eyebrows. And smiles.
What the hell-
"Then what does the little miss want to do? Die out here in the storm?" He inches closer and I take a step back.
"Death would be-"
"Peaceful, yes it sure would." He angles his eyes on mine. "It is nothing but an escape."
My legs give out and I fall to the ground. All the emotions, feelings, everything I had shoved down the past year, threatened to come out.
"You have reason to resent us, dont you?" I snap my eyes to his face. Now that I can actually see the whole of him, he doesnt look like an ordinary commander, the richness in his clothes, the way he moves with grace, hes undoubtedly a high ranking official, maybe a harbringers right hand.
"Then instead of choosing an escape," he continues, "choose revenge. Chanel that hatred of yours onto those who took what was yours away from you."
I blink at his words. Is he seriously asking me to-
"Do you have a death wish?" I ask, eying his body for any kind of weapons he might have. He laughs, as if he knows exactly what I'm looking for, and reached into his coat to pull out a dagger, tucked safely in his back.
And throws it to the ground near me.
Is this man asking me to-
"Fight me." He says cooly, taking his coat off. The storm was getting louder and nearer, and I just stared at him and the dagger in disbelief. This idiot is more suciadal than I am.
"You said you would rather die that be around the likes of me, yes? Then earn your keep, come inside on your own terms. You want revenge on one of us? Then become a part of us. Train your way up, and have your way with whoever you want revenge on when you" he says pointing to my heart, "are strong enough on your own."
"Why- why would you do this, I dont understand" I stutter, and those blue eyes grow cold as he murmurs, "I see me in you."
"Now stand up, take the dagger and come at me, one blow, and I'll make you my right hand" I eye his hydro vision and my mouth feels dry. "Dont worry," he says, reading my mind.
"I wont use my vision or my bow"
I ponder for a moment. Then lunge. I swivel my leg at him, and he dodges with ease. I continue to attack him, but even with the unsteady foothold in the sand and the storm blinding our vision, we both still were able to fight, either side unrelenting. I could sense him holding back. His moves, his trained, professional actions say a lot about how experienced he is as a fighter. I grab a fistful of sand and throw it at his eyes and before he could react, hold the dagger to his throat.
"That's a fowl" he says, laughing, as if we were life long buddies in the middle of a friendly tussle and not to people who hate each other to death, fighting in a middle of a deadly storm.
"Its your win, I'll keep my end of the deal," he smiles, and I shudder at the way it creeps it out, cause it doesnt reach his eyes. "You're now my right hand, правая рука"
He holds his hand out to me and I take it. Whether I was going to regret this decision of mine, I'll have to wait to know.
"Got a name, fighter?" He says, as we talk to the commanders tent.
"Irina" I say, brushing the sand of my knees.
"Fine name, well then Irina, let's go meet your commander, shall we?" he says, smiling, his cold eyes eyeing the crowd of fatui in the tent.
The crowd suddenly falls completely silent as soon as their eyes fall on him. So silent it feels suffocating. He strides in, ignoring the reaction that he just caused as if he's used to this.
The fatui move to sides, making a way for him to walk in, and the looks as they glance at me with distaste and confusion makes me want to cringe and sink away from the glares.
The commander looks at him, and blinks slowly, as if registering who stands before him. He stands up abruptly and all I see is fear on his face.
Just who is this man that can rattle a fatui commander like that?
"Master Childe, why are you- is there a problem" the commander stutters, and I try to breathe, slowling sinking the words in.
Childe, as in Childe Tartaglia? The 11th harbinger of Her Majesty, The Tsarista?
He smiles at me, and it takes everything in me to not pray to the very gods I so despise.
