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The following is a fan-based

FICTION

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Chapter 7: Fiery Memory, Wet Mind

P.S. I now have a discord server! Discord .gg/ceBMM2Zz6c


Sharing the room with his new companions, Kratos was finally getting to the main issue of now: finding the next stop to visit.

Without hesitation, both Girl and Brat had reasoned that Liyue was the best next stop. Despite not knowing much about this world, the former God was in agreement with this decision and yet not too hasty to jump at this. While this place was indeed the closest and, supposedly, the safest to approach, that didn't meant that Kratos was willing to ignore the supposed presence of those 'Divine Beasts'.

Those didn't seem to be proper gods, but that didn't mean that they were going to be as appeasing as Venti had been. 'Confidence' was the word used by the Wind God to address their adherence to their discipline, but that confidence and complacency could easily morph in blinding arrogance if they didn't know the full scope of his skills.

He wasn't planning to start a battle, but the idea of going through the very unsavory period of time that saw him finding the best path to hide away from the Norse Pantheon once again in a more distant land... it wasn't appealing. But the other options were nothing to be too pleased about.

The Land of Eternity, the name already leaving him frowning, had recently imposed its reclusion and refused outsiders unless mandated by the country's government. He wasn't sure of what truly had motivated this choice, but the lack of concrete proof of a serious matter being behind that decision left him annoyed at the chance of facing another cocky God of Thunder.

Sumeru was another pick, but Liyue was between them and it. Snezhnaya was also an option, but one that Venti had argued against due to the Tsaritsa, the deity of that region, having a rather uneasy bond with the other major deities. Plus, rumors suggested that the agents of the Tsaritsa were quite known for their unpleasant habits of hurting people.

With the 'Liyue Option' growing more reasonable, Kratos was glad that they weren't planning to leave for at least another week. There were still a few things to do in Mondstadt between commissions and assisting the locals that had taken them in. And it also gave Kratos the chance to test out the newest ability he gained from atop the mountain.

Leviathan was usually a 'Cryo-themed' weapon, but with its unexpected addition of the Anemo kind (and not by Venti's decision from the way he was uneasy at staring at the weapon and refusing to accept responsibility for its new power) gave it a new edge.

Two commissions saw Kratos shred several Hilichurls and Mitachurls through windblades emitted by the ax. Yet, while he was somewhat enjoying not being 'alone' as the Girl and the Brat stuck around for these two commissions, Kratos was surprised when he was notified of a request asking solely for him.

A trap? He wasn't sure, but Girl and Brat were already out of sight and reach by the time he was given the news and... he was a curious man.

He was asked to check the commissioner by the gates, and he was surprised of what he found there. Kratos was sure many would have paused at the unsettling smirk and the elegant beauty of the woman, a reminder of what Lady Sif looked like but... in reverse. The suave and modest appearance of Thor's wife was clashing before the provocative and yet rather frightening concept that was the woman he was supposed to escort.

Yet, Kratos' truest worry was not by appearance or voice or deed by this commissioner. It was her energy. It was familiar - that rage - and yet not. The hollow feeling of nothingness that existed within her neverending wrath reminded him of his past, but it was her seemingly lack of 'progress' that stunned him.

He succeeded in 'completing his mission', while it was clear this one had not.

"Greetings. I am known as 'La Signora', and I will be in your care during this walk."

The introduction was plain, devoid of warmth beyond the one of interest presented by basic curiosity - and hunger for knowledge.

Kratos nodded and grunted, taking the lead as the woman kept closely behind. Was she trying to kill him? No, he was sure that wasn't the case. He was being studied by her, and he wasn't sure who she truly was. There were a few monsters around, and nothing to really be concerned with through most of the walk.

The real threat was her questions and... her 'answers'.

"What drives your strength, if I may ask?"

He thought of a curt response, and he delivered it. "Many things."

"Hm. Not a man of many words?"

Kratos regarded this in silence, but the woman didn't keep quiet at all.

"A fair sentiment, but one that makes me wonder how much you hold back. I feel it, that flame."

Tense but uncaring, Kratos continued to walk but the conversation didn't end at all. And his patience was growing thinner and thinner.

"It's that same fire that comes from revenge. The aspiration to destroy and shatter, to claim control and be above all."

"Once," He hummed distractedly. "Once that was true."

"Is it not the case? Isn't that flame a destructive tool?" La Signora poked some more, and Kratos' face grew more annoyed.

"Not for revenge. Not anymore."

"But why? I can tell that my fire is not as different as mine. In fact, yours... they burn brighter for a time."

Kratos paused, not only for feeling the heat radiating from the annoyed woman, but also because he 'noticed' the strange device trying to 'cool her down'. It added a new layer to the situation as it showed that the woman was indeed mustering great anger, but that it was something else keeping her under control.

She was still a monster - a moment away from showing off her pure wrath without any form of restraint. The situation was, by all means, far worse than he had thought it to be.

"Maybe we are not alike, after all, I doubt that, if you truly found 'peace', that it was a warranted rage and-"

La Signora paused, her throat suddenly drying up as a new heat emerged from within her proximity. She saw a tempered flame coat the bald man, and Kratos slowly turned and started to walk towards her. Instinct screamed at her to let her burning anger to take over but... something deep inside her made her hesitant.

Fear.

It wasn't a logical fear, but a primal one. This monster was definitely worse than her, but her chance to back away from that confrontation were stopped when he took hold of her wrist. She flinched, thinking that the fire would have scorched through her own intense flame but... but it didn't. In fact, it was controlled, calculated, tempered.

Under control.

"What you lack in understanding, woman, is the fact that you can't claim to want revenge and yet let the pain control you," Kratos harshly stated, his words commanding and full of flat honesty as he let go of her hand. "You think yourself as in charge, but when your revenge will be accomplished, you will be empty and commanded by others. You have let yourself open to those that seek to make you hurt more of the innocents you swore revenge to bring justice to, that doesn't makes you a victim or a hero."

She snarled, unwilling to hear more but she turned to glare at Kratos left her there. She followed behind him, but kept her distance. The powerful warrior had just another thing to say before they truly 'departed' at the gates of Mondstadt.

"You are still alive and remembering those you lost. Don't taint their memories, cherish them and keep those alive. Be better."

While La Signora refused to accept more preaching from a foolish brute, something deep down allowed for those words to stay and fester within her mind. The seed of doubt was finally sown in a witch that thought she lacked any regret.


? POV

It was a new morning, and yet... she didn't want to get out of bed.

It was too early? No. In fact, it was getting a bit late compared to usual. Can Gods get sick? She could potentially conjure a lie as usual and explain it to something bound to her 'natural connection' or something of the kind-

"GET UP, LASSIE!"

The loud rough voice had her squeak and roll out of bed by instinct, mismatched blue and cyan eyes wide open before the owner of those turned her gaze to her newest petulant alarm clock.

"Can you not?" She asked dryly, causing the horned head to scoff.

"Why would I deprive you of a propah wake up call?" He asked, mirth brimming from his voice and glowing gaze. "Plus, you promised me we could go fightin'."

Rolling her eyes and fixing her pretty white sleep-dress, the young woman known as Furina de Fontaine, the Hydro 'Archon', got her mind focusing on another of those long endless days. Yet, the introduction of her newest assistant threw her off the usual loop.

Then again, she doubted that she could have truly stomached with ease the idea that someone that was alive only by his head truly represented an assistant-worthy material.

The man known as Mimir was indeed that- a crafty person that seemed to see through her with ease. They were around the same age, but where Furina knew she was quite 'humane' compared to the other Archons, Mimir was quite familiar with how gods were meant to behave and-

"You don't look like a god, lass. You sound more like a preachy brat."

The insult had stuck to her ever since they first met. She had taken a nightly stroll just outside the court, not planning to trip on Mimir as he had managed to 'roll his way' to the grand court. When inquired on how he got through the water, he admitted to 'not have the lungs to worry about that'.

In a normal situation, Furina would have ditched the head and let the proper authorities take care of this brutish goat-man-head, but his words struck her weird.

"I-I will have you know, as the Hydro Archon, I can easily destroy you!"

"Then do so, lass. But I can see through your shit with ease. And... I heard that trials are quite fun here in this place- wouldn't mind giving it a try with ya."

The threat and promise left Furina in a spot of fragility that Mimir then exploited for an offer.

"Tell ya what. You take me with ya, and I help you fix that 'silly act' you call being a 'god'."

The offer was outrageous. She had years and years of perfecting her style but... then there was also the fact that Mimir saw through her with ease. She 'gave him some mercy', and the rewards she got from this decision were about greater than she had imagined.

The first help came in the form of the script: "Too dramatic. It raises expectations! You need to drop it a notch or two."

Annoyance came to her mind the first time she heard this and she allowed the silly head to give her a paper to read - it was the same thing she did when she was first introduced to the Court and... it hadn't gone that well last time. She had to be 'powerful' before her subjects but... she decided to go for it.

The first ten minutes were dreadful! The people were quick to whisper at that speech she gave, so soft and controlled, that their Archon was growing 'weaker'. But as she went through the original portion she asked Mimir to write down, Furina also spotted a few lines she hadn't asked for.

She read those nonetheless and-

"Alas, I have to also admit that I have decided to moderate myself. A god can be as mighty as she can be, but the matters of the prophecy are growing more intense as each day pass. I have developed a few solutions, but I realized that more plots are involved to make this a troublesome and complex matters- do not think of me as 'weak' for I can still ask for trial to be set up to prove to you all I am your Archon as I have been since Egeria's passing!"

The soft voice lasted until it was the last sentence. Furina was greeted by a standing ovation that left her surprised.

"W-Why?"

"People are critics as much as they can be in this place. But they are fools- if you don't put some iron on that tongue of yours when you speak, they will be willing to walk on you. Hence why you need to be stronger on your claim rather than more 'flashy' about it."

She didn't get much of that answer early on, but as time passed she realized it was tied to her attitude to be too 'appeasing'. Even as she convinced many of her 'great wisdom', it was also true that she was doing so to stand up to her people's expectation on how an Archon was meant to behave.

But why should a god bow their heads to 'snot-nosed brats' as Mimir called them?

Despite the love she had for Fontaine as a whole, Furina had to accept this as a valid truth - she couldn't let her act be tainted by the bossy and bratty turn that her subjects sought her to accept. She had to be above that, and she had to be 'tougher-sounding' about it.

And also tougher-looking as she was not expected to 'train' with Mimir.

The idea felt stupid: why would she need to learn on how to fight if she wasn't expected to face anyone just yet? Plus, with a Champion Duelist like Clorinde always by her side when dealing with chores, why would she need to know how to defend herself?

Despite those reasonable questions, Furina was coerced to accept the head's orders: she was to spar with Clorinde, lying to her that her skills had gotten rusty since she was stuck dealing with the prophecy's burden, and then go for a 'live fight' against any of the lowly monsters in the region.

She was... clumsy, for sure, but she made progress within the time she had Mimir coach her into a more 'efficient' schedule.

Did she love it? No. But that didn't meant that Furina could deny the progress she made as less people treated her as the butt of the joke.

And with that, Furina was willing to call this partnership a good step in the right direction. At least, she had someone else to rely upon to face this prophecy.


AN

Mimir appears... and he is dealing with quite the trauma bundle. Luckily for him, he just needs to use his good dialects to slowly unravel the mess that is known as Furina de Fontaine.