A Knight's Retirement
Chapter 8: A Relic of the Past
Jean Gunnhildr was fiercely devoted to her duties as Acting Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius. Becoming an exemplary knight and protecting the people of Mondstadt was all that she ever knew and wanted for herself.
But she had to admit, there were drawbacks to being so work-oriented. She was far from a social recluse, but sometimes she had trouble picking up conversational cues or reading the moods of others. And she often found herself wishing she was in her office or out in the field when trying to participate in any other non-work related activity.
Her first impression of Cyril of Astora was that he was likely similar to her. But he'd actually proven to be something of a social butterfly, despite his reserved demeanor. He commonly went out drinking with Venti or Kaeya, and many of the knights thought quite well of him. It actually made her a bit jealous how easily he seemed to adapt to new situations and people.
Not to mention his skill and efficiency. She had no trouble believing that he was a full-fledged knight from his homeland, and it spoke volumes of Astora or Lordran that despite their alleged fallen state, they produced people like him.
She was admittedly curious to learn more, as aside from their first meeting and the occasional snippet here and there, Cyril had been remarkably reticent about details of his world. From what she had learned, she didn't blame him. It didn't sound pleasant at all.
Regardless, she'd come to trust him a fair bit during his time with them. In fact, after talking with the Captains, she might even offer him a formal position as a Knight of Favonius. She wasn't sure he'd accept, due to past oaths or something like that, but he seemed to enjoy living in Mondstadt so far.
Her musings were interrupted by the sound of a child's delighted screams. It took her only a moment to identify them: it was Klee having fun. Too much fun for this early in the morning.
What in the world got the child prodigy so excited? She knew better than to experiment with her bombs in the middle of the hallway…
Curious, Jean poked her head out of her office only to be greeted with a surreal sight: Cyril, in all his armor, was carrying Klee on his shoulders and sprinting across the entrance hall. The energetic child was letting out ecstatic whoops as the tall knight ferried her about.
It was quite a sight that would've been terrifying on the battlefield, a fully armored figure with a faceless visor charging straight at you. Those familiar with Klee would've had additional layers of terror added, knowing full well what the small girl was capable of.
They reached the other side of the entrance hall, turned around, and were about to begin another sprint when both of them spotted Jean looking at them and froze immediately.
Jean had to stifle a giggle in order to maintain her character as Acting Grand Master. It was hard though, the sheer contrast between the wide, innocent eyes Klee was looking at her with and the faceless visor of Cyril's helmet somehow managing to look like a kid caught playing a prank was a rather comical sight.
"Klee isn't in trouble...is she?" Klee made a great imitation of a young puppy as she looked up and down between Cyril and Jean. The young girl was known for getting up to all kinds of mischief, as a result, she tended to fear getting caught and scolded by Jean. She really was a sweet child, though, and her affection for her caretakers at the Knights of Favonius was clear to anyone looking in.
The girl's mother is a famed adventurer who spends all her time traveling the world, sending gifts and stories back to Klee. While some children would be adversely affected by the lack of a parental figure, Klee had already inherited her mother's survivalist/go-with-the-flow attitude and had adapted amazingly well.
And with her mother, Alice's, absence, the Knights of Favonius had essentially adopted her, and it could be said (then subsequently denied) that many of them doted upon her.
But even then, Jean had heard rumors around the Headquarters about their armored guest. Specifically, how he always sets aside a bit of time to play with Klee and tell her stories. He even bought her treats using a portion of the money he received from taking on jobs. In a relatively short time, his status as "Klee's favorite uncle" was all but set in stone already.
"Lady Jean, this activity was my own idea." Cyril spoke quickly, setting Klee down gently and unknowingly affirming the rumors about him.
"Don't worry, please. I'm not angry." Jean said in a relaxed tone, suppressing another giggle at the relief that manifested in the two's body language, "But I do want to have a word with Cyril about something else. Is that alright, Klee?"
"Yeah!" Klee nodded, a smile returning to her face now that she realized she wasn't in trouble, "Cyril promised we'd go fishing today, though!"
"Oh…" Jean made a troubled face, "Well unfortunately, I might have some work for Cyril to do today…"
"Aww...it's okay, I understand!" Klee deflated a bit, but still managed to give them both a radiant smile.
"I shall make it up to you another time, Klee." Cyril stated kindly, "Perhaps we could even go treasure hunting."
"Really!?" Her eyes widened in delighted surprise, "That sounds fun! Thank you, Cyril! And, um, good luck with your work! You too, Master Jean!"
"Thank you, Klee." Jean gave her a warm smile, Cyril nodding along in acknowledgment.
The two adults watched as she cheerfully scurried away after giving them a series of rapid waves.
Feeling somewhat mischievous, Jean commented, "I'm surprised she doesn't call you 'Uncle Cyril'."
"Urk." Cyril groaned softly to himself, "I should have expected that the Acting Grandmaster would've heard the rumors…"
Jean covered her mouth, hiding her growing smile as she asked him with idle curiosity, "...Do you like children? I admit that sometimes I can't keep up with them myself…"
"Hmm...they are...new to me. But they represent a brighter future." Cyril answered, somewhat unsurely, "Lordran and Astora, in their death throes, were no place for the young. In fact, I cannot recall encountering any youths during my time there."
Jean had no clue what to say to that. Cyril noticed her speechlessness and moved to correct himself.
"My apologies. That was a rather dark statement to make." Cyril apologized, sensing her awkwardness.
"No, it's alright. It's just...the more I hear about Lordran from you, the more glad I am that you're here now." Jean shook her head, unknowingly echoing Amber's earlier sentiments.
Jean had noticed that as long as they talked about Mondstadt, or Teyvat in general, Cyril's mood was largely positive and optimistic. But the moment he spoke of Lordran or Astora, it was like he was a different person entirely. And from what little she'd learned about those places, she didn't really blame him.
"I am of the same mind, of course." Cyril nodded, and even without seeing his face Jean could sense the contentment in his voice.
That odd feeling of satisfaction was another thing.
It was strange to admit, but she had the thought that sometimes Cyril appreciated the sight of Mondstadt more than even its own citizens did. She could see why: it was something new and different to him, while familiar to its own people.
Even she herself didn't immerse herself in the atmosphere as much as she'd seen Cyril do. Her times of quiet contemplation were reserved for when she wasn't busy, usually within the shade of the giant oak at Windrise. She had to wonder what Cyril would think of the mountains and ruins of Liyue, a place that, despite her pride in Mondstadt, she'd admit was a sight to behold.
"Lady Jean?" Cyril's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
"Ah...my apologies. Come into my office for a moment, I'll explain the mission to you." Jean waved him through the door.
Cyril had wondered what kind of task would need to be handed out by the Acting Grand Master herself.
As it turns out, the issue of manpower for the Knights of Favonius had once again reared its ugly head. Most of the knights were on routine patrols, which had been intensified due to word of a smuggling ring attempting to bring "harmful goods" into Mondstadt's territory.
Cyril was aware of the addictive properties of certain substances, or how harmful explosives could be, which is why it made sense to him that there would be a list of goods to be regulated and handled by the proper authorities. It just wasn't something he saw in the lawless lands of his origin.
He actually still carried some black firebombs, having bought them from a very sketchy trader back in the day. The flames of the First Kiln, for some reason, hadn't destroyed most of the goods he'd scrounged up across his travels.
Likely because the flames of the kiln were burning his soul and were less...physical in nature than one would expect. Otherwise, he'd likely be a pile of ashes right now. Or maybe because his bottomless bag was practically invulnerable?
More to the point, Lady Jean was planning to sally out herself today, and she wished to have Cyril accompany her as backup. There'd been troubling reports of the Abyss Order digging up artifacts out near a small valley between the Dragonspine Mountains and the plains of Mondstadt. Cyril had no love of the cold, but according to the map the valley in question was still within Mondstadt's temperate climate.
"Even if we had the personnel to spare...we'd have to be very careful. Members of the Abyss Order can wield elements in a more potent way than the Samachurls that advise the Hilichurl tribes." Jean had remarked during the briefing. In short, it was better for wielders of Visions to take the lead against Abyss Order incursions.
And that was another curious aspect of Teyvat that Cyril had noticed. Humans could not use elemental abilities without a Vision, aside from the rumored Traveler, or without extensive training in obscure schools of mysticism like Miss Mona. But monsters and other races had a variety of diverse powers that seemed to come naturally to them. No one seemed to know for sure whether it was a natural ability or if these races also drew power from the Archons.
Of course as far as he could tell, Cyril's abilities were wholly unique in Teyvat as well, but aside from drawing the interest of academics like Lady Lisa, there was little attention focused on him. He chalked it up to displays of his combat ability and the few instances of magic he's used in the field being less...acrobatic and flashy than one would typically expect, given his observations of known Vision users so far.
Though he had to admit, he was curious about Lady Jean's fighting style. He knew from her body language that she was skilled, and trained hard to maintain those skills, but he'd yet to see her in action. It was likely he'd get his wish, if the Abyss Order's forces were as troublesome as he'd read/heard.
The two traveled to the designated location with short bursts of casual conversation interspersed with companionable silence.
"I will never get tired of the unique landscape of Teyvat," Cyril commented as they walked, "It's as if the lands were shaped by another force entirely."
"That's very well the case for many places," Jean replied with a smile, "The Archons' powers shaped their lands to fit their people and the kind of country they wished to rule over. Liyue has many mountains and islands created by the spears of stone of their own Archon, Rex Lapis."
Cyril blinked. He'd read of the Archon's powers but that sounded quite excessive, "These are not just tales passed down through time?"
"There might be exaggeration here and there, but as far as we know there are many places that can be directly linked to sites of battle during the Archon Wars or other subsequent conflicts." Jean replied.
"That is...impressive." Cyril fell silent, the jagged mountains and windswept cliffs of Mondstadt taking on something of a different view in light of this new information.
Would the bearers of the Lord Souls have been able to match the sheer power of the Archons? Perhaps at their peak, when Gwyn was said to throw pillars of lightning that sheared through the stone scales and hides of the Ancient Dragons.
He shook his head. It was an interesting thing to ponder, but ultimately irrelevant now. The Lords had fallen, by his hand. And they were far from their prime when he laid them low.
"I've read the reports on what kind of forces the Abyss Order typically fields, but is there any additional advice you wish to pass on?" Cyril asked.
"Assuming we're only encountering a small contingent, their forces will most likely consist of Hilichurls, with whom you have plenty of experience fighting." Jean explained, earning a nod from him, "But the difference will be that they're led by Abyss mages. They make for troublesome opponents due to the potency of both their defensive shields and long-range offensive attacks. It'd be best if you maneuver around the hilichurls and strike down the mages first. Of course, their elemental shields are weaker against the opposite element, but that doesn't apply to either of us, really."
"That makes sense." Cyril agreed. The elements of Teyvat consist of Electro, Hydro, Cryo, Pyro, Anemo, Geo, and Dendro, which can have various interactions with one another. However, elements such as Anemo (which is Jean's element and the element of Barbatos, the Archon of Mondstadt) and Geo have their own unique interactions, but none that are meant to rapidly disable elemental shields. Of course, he figured his realm's pyromancy would have the same effect as the pyro element, but he had yet to confirm this statement.
They continued to discuss general tactics, strategy, and information from past engagements against the Abyss Order until they were close to the area the reports specified. Impressing Jean with his ability to move silently, the two of them began scouting their surroundings carefully.
"There are some old, unremarkable ruins past the crest of that hill...but I had thought they'd been searched many times by adventurers, hilichurls, and other roaming travelers." Jean frowned, "Unless they're actually turning it into a base of operations, I see no reason for the Abyss Order to be in this location specifically."
As if in response to her words, a hilichurl patrol appeared at the top of said nearby hill. Quickly hiding themselves behind some rocks, Jean and Cyril observed them closely. There was always the minor chance that this patrol belonged to a hilichurl tribe unaligned with the Abyss Order, so there was no reason to provoke them yet.
"There's no Mitachurl present…" Jean frowned, "Since Mitachurls are respected leaders of hilichurl tribes, they don't always get along with the abyss mages because of conflicts in power dynamics. However, when they do get along, it can be quite formidable."
"So this is either a very small patrol, or we've found the Order's scouts." Cyril mused, with Jean nodding in agreement.
After watching them for a bit longer, their patience paid off and a small, stout figure distinct from the hilichurls appeared, gesticulating wildly at the masked creatures.
"Ah, that's an abyss mage...and judging from its coloration, it's likely cryo-aligned." Jean informed Cyril.
"That's it then. Shall we attack?" Cyril asked, hand on the hilt of his sword. He felt somewhat eager, despite constantly reminding himself that despite the name, the Abyss Order are nowhere near as heinous as certain beings of Lordran's Abyss, such as the Darkwraiths.
But luckily for his suppressed hostility, the Abyss Order are still "attack on sight" enemies for the people of Teyvat.
"Hmm...normally, I would prefer to move closer in order to gain more information about their activities first, but there is too little cover for that..." Jean's brow furrowed thoughtfully, "Very well. Let us clear this area of the Abyss Order's sinister activities."
Cyril gave a nod of agreement. With that, Jean summoned her sword, giving him his first look at the Acting Grand Master's weapon. To be expected, it was a beautifully functional blade, with white engravings and a hilt carved to resemble feathers.
Taking that as his cue, Cyril drew his own blade and moved his shield into position. Someone once asked him about its use, as metal shields tend to lose their effectiveness against elemental specialists in this world, but he reassured them that his shield was no ordinary piece of equipment. It'd been refined to the limit with titanite, and was naturally resistant against sorcery.
Though he had no idea how effective it'd be at defending him against the Abyss Mage's attacks.
"Ah, by the way, that lightning spell of yours is banned." Jean suddenly added.
"...Did Amber put you up to this, Lady Jean?" Cyril frowned from underneath his helmet.
"Not just her, Lisa said that unless you can demonstrate it perfectly for her she'll find a way to punish you as well." Jean had a small, triumphant smile on her face. His hunch from a while back was right, Lady Jean really wasn't happy that his only major injury so far was his own fault.
"...Very well," Cyril was no fool, he'd also heard the stories from Kaeya of the electro librarian's wrath. He supposed that even she worried about him in her own way, despite her lackadaisical nature.
"Incidentally...did you just refer to Amber without the 'Lady' prefix you normally use?" Jean asked curiously.
"Ah...she insisted that I cease its use as it was too formal," he replied.
"Haven't I said the same thing?" Jean pursed her lips. He got the distinct feeling that she was somewhat unhappy at the moment.
"But there is a considerable difference in rank…" Cyril trailed off.
"Never mind…" Jean shook her head, "Let us focus on our adversaries first."
Cyril paused, mulling over Jean's shifts in mood, before nodding, "Indeed. Shall I lead the charge?"
At Jean's answering nod they both tensed in anticipation of the coming battle. Though only a moment passed, it dragged on as they sharpened their senses and reflexes, before Cyril exploded into motion with Jean close behind.
They crossed the distance in no time at all, their steps light so that they preserved the element of surprise for as long as possible. Luckily, the hilichurls were busy digging or whatever the Abyss Mage ordered them to do, while the Abyss Mage was supervising them.
Finally, one of the hilichurls noticed the two oncoming combatants at about 10-15 meters between them. Which was much too little to do anything as Cyril bowled over the closest hilichurl with a shield charge.
Credit where credit is due, the remaining four hilichurls immediately grabbed their weapons as the Abyss Mage conjured up its ice shield, which resembled a pale blue bubble.
One quick thrust of his blade finished the downed hilichurl while Jean summoned up some kind of wind-based vortex, sucking in the remaining hilichurls before they even had the chance to swing their weapons. While it greatly simplified the battle, Cyril could tell that she was focused on keeping the hilichurls under control. That left him to face the Abyss Mage for now.
He blocked an incoming shard of ice and closed the distance quickly. As expected, his sword seemed to damage the mage's shield, but not as quickly as he would like.
Time to test his pyromancy's effectiveness. As mentioned before, he was no expert pyromancer, but he at least knew basic spells such as Fireball and Fire Orb. Opting for the stronger of the two, he summoned forth an orb of flame in his left hand and hurled it at the surprised Abyss Mage, who'd been attempting to cast another cryo spell.
The potency of the flame did its job, the shield flickering and weakening rapidly. Not missing a beat Cyril approached once more, smashing his fist through the fading shield and grabbing the mage by its stout throat. It seemed to hurl some obscenities at him in whatever its language was, before he tightened his grip, snapping its neck and ending its life.
He turned to find Jean cutting down the last of the hilichurls, as expected, it was no trouble for a fighter of her caliber. He was about to call out in congratulations when he saw her eyes widen in surprise.
"Look out!" she shouted.
He whirled around, seeing a ball of flame headed straight at his face. Out of the corner of his eyes he quickly noted a Pyro Abyss Mage and another small squad of hilichurls approaching. So they had split their forces...he'd wondered why they were out here with so few troops.
"Hah!" He raised his shield arm quickly, but misjudged the attack's trajectory, feeling it connect with his shoulder instead of his shield. Luckily it didn't seem to hurt much or do much damage, so he quickly assumed a proper defensive stance in case of a follow-up attack.
Then Jean dashed right past him, immediately laying into the oncoming hilichurls. Not one to be left behind, Cyril charged at the now panicking Abyss Mage. Apparently it didn't expect Jean's aggressive assault on its forces, unable to see her due to the hill's incline, and fired several attacks at her ineffectually: she quite literally danced past them.
Though he'd later admit that he was fighting with extreme prejudice thanks to the Abyss Order's name, Cyril did something that surprised literally everyone on the battlefield: he rammed his gauntleted fist through the pyro mage's fully functional shield, not yet weakened by any attack.
It didn't dissipate fully, but his arm savagely tore a hole in it. The abyss mage could only stare in shock. Shortly after, it joined the cryo abyss mage as comrades who both suffered snapped necks. To the side, Jean dealt with the remaining hilichurls just as easily as she did with the first squad.
And thus ended Cyril's first encounter with the Abyss Order. A rather minor skirmish, one that would be forgotten quickly. However…
"Cyril, are you wounded?" Jean asked as she unsummoned her sword.
He knew better than to hide anything this time, "I'm unsure of the specifics, but I most likely have minor burns and perhaps a sprained wrist."
He had underestimated the mage's shield. Punching it at full power had been a rather reckless move. They wouldn't be widely used if they were easily broken, after all. Though it would've been different if he had a hydro-based skill…
"That sounds manageable, hold still." Jean conjured up a small circle that gave off a soothing breeze, "I'm not as skilled of a healer as Barbara, but I can do this much."
As the calming wind washed over him, he felt the soreness in his wrist and the burns on his shoulder fade away, "Thank you very much, Lady Jean."
"Jean," she smiled, though her tone was insistent, "Just call me Jean. Once again, you aren't one of my knights, and I consider you a comrade and a friend."
Cyril knew he wouldn't win this argument, and plus he didn't want to make her unhappy again, "Understood. Thank you, Jean."
Her smile turned warmer, before she looked away, scanning their surroundings, "We should investigate what they were looking for out there. I'll head back to check where the cryo mage's group was, you go ahead and look around the area the fire mage came from."
"Very well. Hopefully we shall gain some insight into their activities." Cyril nodded, heading in the direction Jean indicated.
Their search turned up nothing at first, until Cyril felt a familiar feeling...one he hadn't expected to experience again:
The heat of a bonfire.
"This…" He followed the feeling until he came across a slightly odd-looking campfire. This was likely where the pyro mage's squad was resting before Jean and Cyril had attacked. Looking closer, one of the pieces of wood wasn't a piece of wood at all, it was a coiled sword.
The staple component of an undead bonfire.
However, this campfire itself wasn't a proper bonfire, and the unique warmth he was feeling was solely from the sword alone. Cyril's eyes narrowed, and he removed the coiled sword from the regular flames. Despite the familiar aura of warmth it gave off, the metal was cool to the touch, another sign that this sword hadn't been properly activated in recent time.
This...was a very severe development.
Truthfully, Cyril had already been mulling over the idea of sharing more information about himself and his world. It would be irresponsible not to, in his eyes. After all, if he ended up in Teyvat, who's to say other things from Lordran wouldn't?
Now that has become a matter of utmost urgency. But first, he would have to bring this up with Jean.
He made his way back to where Jean was investigating. She looked up and greeted him with a smile, "Cyril, have you found anything- ...What is that?"
"This is a coiled sword," Cyril's voice carried a sort of weighty seriousness, immediately catching her attention, "It's an artifact from my homelands."
"Truly?" Jean's eyes widened in surprise, "What does it do?"
"..." Cyril hesitated, "It...will take me some time to explain. I apologize, but may I ask that you wait for an explanation? This...is something that should be shared with the others. I would suggest that I give the explanation to the leadership of the Knights of Favonius as well as any other individuals you hold as trustworthy. The repercussions of this item's appearance are not inconsequential."
Jean was still confused, but sensing the gravity of his words, she acquiesced, "I understand. I will send out messages to everyone today."
"Yes, that'll give me time to organize my thoughts as well…" Cyril was distracted, looking at the coiled sword in his hands constantly.
Jean eyed him worriedly as they walked, "Do you believe that the Abyss Order was here searching for that artifact?"
"I cannot say for sure, but this was located at their camp. Perhaps they were using a residual energy trace to search for others like it? Or did they find it there and then decide to continue searching the area?" Cyril shook his head, before saying grimly, "Whatever their intentions were, I doubt they truly understood what it means for something like this to appear in these lands."
It'd just been lying in a campfire, though. Was it just a coincidence? Or had they been trying to create a bonfire of their own? What good would a bonfire even do for individuals unaffected by the Darksign?
If one was being optimistic, they may have just sensed unnatural properties about the sword. If pessimistic, someone with a greater understanding of the esoteric powers of his world, maybe even with knowledge of the Darksign itself, could have arrived already…
There were too many questions, but he would do his duty. His new home would not be defenseless, should more…unsavory guests from his place of origin appear.
He swore it.