Crossposted A/N: Ugh, I'll admit, I feel like this might be one of my weakest chapters yet. Though that may just be because it's out of my normal wheelhouse of writing. Info-dumpy reveals .
I considered letting it cook for longer, but honestly I want to move on to some of my later character interaction ideas and stuff. So boom, here it is! I hope it's passable.
A Knight's Retirement
Chapter 9: The Curse of Undeath
Putting together something that resembled a bonfire wasn't hard. It required the bones of an undead, a coiled sword, and a material for kindling. He had plenty of homeward bones, there was the sword he'd found with Lady Jean, and he had a stockpile humanity stored away in his bottomless box for kindling.
Though Cyril had to wonder if it was even possible to actually construct a functioning bonfire from scratch without the assistance of a Fire Keeper. It should be, since there were plenty of bonfires that had no fire keeper tending to them.
He sighed. It was no use agonizing over it until he actually tried. Jean had arranged for the use of one of the basement rooms of the Knights' Headquarters so that he could attempt his little experiment. And that room would be nice and out of the way to afford some privacy as he shared his story.
Before he got started with that morbid little project though, he'd gone for one of his usual walks around Mondstadt. The meeting was set for the afternoon, so he had plenty of time to ponder his uncertain future.
The morning sun shone brightly over the stone construction of the city, the bright light filling him with that sense of contentment he'd come to hold so dear. But this time there was also an undercurrent of foreboding beneath the surface.
Was this his last day among the citizens here? Even the gentle breeze that seemed to perpetually caress the city's inhabitants did little to raise his spirits now. Of course, he held hope that the camaraderie he'd forged with his new companions was strong, strong enough for the truth, but his intimate knowledge of the fate of the Undead in his homeland tempered that hope with cool resignation.
"Hey! You!" Someone called out, shocking him out of his musings. It was still early, and the streets weren't yet filled with the daily bustle of people yet, so it was easy to figure out they were calling to him.
He turned to find Miss Mona stomping towards him, a look of dissatisfaction on her face. He couldn't begin to imagine what he might've done to earn her ire, as it'd been some time since they'd last crossed paths.
"Good morning, Miss Mona. Is something amiss?" Cyril asked curiously, after giving her a quick bow in greeting.
She stopped, narrowing her eyes at him dubiously, "There's no problem, per se…but you haven't invited me on any of your assignments! And I know you've been doing plenty of jobs, too! I wasn't joking when I made my offer before."
He blinked, caught by surprise. "My apologies. I'm not used to having companions…most of the time if I am accompanied by anyone it is due to circumstance or organized by the Acting Grandmaster or one of the other knights."
"Hmm. Well, I guess that's fine." Mona huffed and crossed her arms underneath her chest. "Just remember that I won't go back on my word. If you need a hand, I'll gladly do so."
"Your offer is greatly appreciated, and I will be sure to keep it in mind." Cyril inclined his head gratefully, before remembering the incident that took place with his divination, "I see that your hat is doing well."
She flushed, reaching up and tugging at the brim of the aforementioned headpiece. "Any tailor worth their salt knows how to deal with elemental damage, so luckily it was a trivial repair job."
"That makes sense." Cyril nodded idly.
Though meeting an acquaintance for the first time in a while had momentarily distracted him, his thoughts inadvertently drifted back towards the looming reveal.
His preoccupied state of mind did not go unnoticed. "Is something bothering you, Cyril?"
"Ah, is it so obvious?" He chuckled wryly. He hadn't thought his troubles would be so easy for others to discern.
"Mm, normally you'd be busy staring at random things," She had a slight smirk on her face. "You still come up in conversation around town pretty often, you know?"
"I wasn't aware my daily habits were so interesting to everyone…" Cyril rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
"Oh, the gossip mill will never stop. And they just love having a dashing knight to gush over...you'd be amazed at the things I hear during my divination work. In your case, you also have a foreign aspect to add some 'flavor' as well." She paused, her cheeks turning a bit pink and her voice turning softer, "...I can sort of see where they're coming from. A-About the knightly part I mean!"
"I see. Then I suppose I must ensure that I am always conscious of how I carry myself, if others are watching so intently." Cyril hummed, unsure how to feel about such scrutiny.
"I don't really think that's an issue given your normal behavior…but you still haven't answered my earlier question. What's on your mind? If you're alright with talking about it, that is." Mona crossed her arms once more, watching him intently.
He sighed. "In a way, it seems my past has caught up to me. Some worrying discoveries have led me to decide to share some potentially problematic truths…honestly, I fear that I may not be able to reside here much longer."
"Huh? I doubt the knights will care too much that you're from another world…" Mona trailed off.
He stopped and stared at her. "You knew already, Miss Mona? This knowledge hasn't become widespread without my awareness, has it?"
"Ha, it's good to have direct confirmation. The stars never lie. Even if I couldn't do a proper divination for you, I still managed to glean your otherworldly origins last time." Mona puffed her chest out proudly. "And don't worry, I haven't told anyone."
"That's interesting…and I thank you for your discretion as well," Cyril said, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Though I believe most of the captains already know this as well."
"Then, does it have anything to do with the fact that my divination attempt on you set my hat on fire?" Mona pointed a finger at him, but her tone was teasing in nature.
"It may be related, yes." Cyril cracked a smile for a brief moment. "I…in truth, I wonder if any individual would be able to look at me the same if they knew more about my circumstances…or what I've done in the past."
Mona opened her mouth to reply, but halted in thought for a few moments. "...I think you may be underestimating how beloved you've become. I don't think I've heard a single negative thing about you. I'm sure those you work closely with feel the same way, if not more so."
It was uplifting praise, for certain. And Cyril couldn't deny the warmth of happiness he felt when his efforts were acknowledged in such a way.
"Still, that is because I've been rather reticent concerning any details about myself." Cyril pointed out.
"Do you suddenly plan on becoming a criminal after telling your story? Or changing how you carry yourself in any way?" Mona asked him with a raised eyebrow.
"Of course not." Cyril shook his head adamantly.
"Then I'll just say this, if we all spend our time thinking about the worst someone is capable of, then everyone would be living in constant fear." Mona reassured him with a pat on his shoulder, "I don't know what's happened to you, or what you may have done, but I believe you've earned the benefit of the doubt, if not more. And if I think that way, I'm sure the knights you see every day must feel more strongly."
"That's…I thank you for the kind words, Miss Mona. They do much to set my heart at ease." Cyril took a deep breath, his tone filled with warm gratitude.
She blinked, then averted her eyes in sudden embarrassment, "I'm only stating my opinion…"
"And I appreciate your perspective." Cyril smiled, his first true smile of the day. "I'm sorry to trouble you with such personal matters so early in the day."
"It's no trouble at all." Mona shook her head. "Though I admit you've piqued my curiosity with all the vague statements."
"Hmm…" Cyril rubbed his chin thoughtfully, before deciding to extend an invitation, "In return for your thoughts, would you like to accompany me to the meeting? I don't think the knights will mind, and it is my own story to tell in the first place."
"...Really? I don't want to intrude…" Mona's expression was unsure, her brow furrowing.
"Please, I don't mind at all. While the group I planned on informing is small in number, it is not due to my desire to keep things secret from a wider audience. I simply believe they would know how best to proceed afterwards." Cyril reassured her.
He left unspoken his previous expectation that they would no longer be so accepting of his presence, though.
"Then…if it's alright, I'd like to hear your story." Mona straightened up, an undeniable gleam of curiosity in her eyes.
Cyril nodded with a smile. "I plan to head back and begin preparing after this stroll. If you'd like, you are free to accompany me until then."
Mona agreed easily, and the pair set off. It was obvious to the both of them that the mood had much improved, though Cyril could only hope that would remain the case later on…
After making sure it was okay with Lady Jean that Mona was present, it was time to actually see if it was possible to construct a bonfire.
"Are those…human bones?" Mona asked, a disturbed look on her face as Cyril went about setting up a bonfire in the middle of the cleared basement room. She was sitting on an old wooden crate placed against the wall.
"They are. Bones of individuals afflicted with a certain condition from my homelands are required for this." Cyril replied, a resigned look on his face.
"How macabre…" Mona shuddered slightly.
"I've never considered bonfires further than just a cursory observation due to how common they were…but it is a rather morbid sight." Cyril replied with a wry chuckle.
"Bonfire? Is that what you're making?" Mona composed herself, curiosity re-entering her tone.
"Not a traditional one, but yes, that's what they were called." Cyril explained.
Their attention was drawn to the door as it opened, allowing Sir Albedo and Lady Sucrose into the room. The Chief Alchemist nodded in greeting, while Sucrose waved timidly at the two already present.
"It seems we're a bit early." Albedo noted.
"It's good to see you, Sir Albedo." Cyril greeted him respectfully. "And you as well, Lady Sucrose."
"H-Hi Cyril…" Sucrose replied, a small smile on her face. She averted her eyes, her gaze moving about until locking on to Cyril's pile of homeward bones and bone meal. Her eyes widened in surprise and intrigue, "Hm? Those are human bones, aren't they?"
"Yes," Cyril repeated. He felt a bit amused at her contrasting reaction compared to Mona's. He supposed she must be more used to such sights given her interest in the field of life.
The sound of approaching footsteps stopped Sucrose from inquiring further.
"Hey there Cyril!" Amber hopped in a moment later followed by a more sedate Eula. "I've brought Eula with me!"
"Lady Amber, Lady Eula, how are you?" Cyril inclined his head in acknowledgment.
"Nuh-uh, it's just 'Amber', remember?" Amber immediately shot back, "And I'm doing pretty good! Curious about all of this, though."
"It's been awhile." Eula replied with her characteristic cool tone, though her eyes were nowhere near as cold as her voice.
"I'm assuming Lady Jean shared some details with you, but we came across a relic from my homelands. If both myself and this relic can arrive here in Mondstadt…well, there are many concerns." Cyril explained.
Both Eula and Amber nodded at his brief explanation, though Amber shot him a worried look. She likely had some idea, given that he'd shared a few vague stories with her.
As Cyril put the finishing touches on the bonfire (aside from actually lighting it), Lady Jean, Sir Kaeya, and Lady Lisa arrived.
"Hello everyone," Jean nodded at the assembled group, while Lisa gave a dainty wave with her fingers.
"Looks like the gang's all here." Kaeya raised his hand in greeting, "Sorry we're a bit late."
"You've arrived at the right time, actually." Cyril gestured at the unlit bonfire, "I just completed constructing the bonfire."
Everyone approached to take a closer look at the construct. It certainly didn't look particularly impressive, just a pile of dust and bones with the coiled sword resting inside, point first.
"Thank you for your patience," Cyril began, "As you've likely been informed, Lady Jean and I discovered an artifact that I've identified as originating from my previous world of residence: Lordran."
He saw Jean frown a bit at his reversion to a formal method of address towards her, but he ignored it for now. The heavy topics that were coming up demanded a certain formality/detachment in his conduct.
"I have worried before that if I could somehow make the mysterious journey to this place, that is, to Teyvat, then there was a chance that I wouldn't be the only one. This has confirmed that worry." His tone was grim, and he could see some of his audience straighten up slightly, tensing at his demeanor.
"Before I can explain the purpose of the artifact, I must explain parts of my land's history. As you know, I hail from Astora, one of many countries located on my home continent. Others include Thorolund, Carim, Vinheim, Catarina," He gave a small smile as Amber perked up in recognition, "and many more. Unfortunately, all of them are likely destroyed or ruined by now."
He noted some expressions of surprise, but most of the audience were listening calmly thus far. That was good.
"It was not war, famine, nor any other conventional reason for nations to fall. In fact, the cause is the same for all of these countries: the appearance of a mark known as the Darksign." Cyril took a breath, "Without any rhyme or reason, the humans of the continent suddenly began manifesting the Darksign, a circular mark of pitch black color, ringed by light orange flames. Here is proof of what I say."
He pulled off his left gauntlet, holding his hand up for all to see. As he'd described, the Darksign was right on the back of his left hand, an unnatural circle of darkness ringed by flames and etched into his flesh.
"That…is a very unnatural mark." Mona looked slightly disturbed at the unsettling brand. Her expression was mirrored by most of the others, though Albedo only seemed to show interest.
"I believe the scholars of my lands agreed, calling it some kind of supernatural affliction." Cyril shook his head, a melancholy look in his eyes, "Those affected by the Darksign were known by many names, but the most common was this: the Undead."
That earned some furrowed brows from the audience.
"Pretty dramatic, don't you think?" Kaeya commented, wearing his characteristic smirk.
"Perhaps, but it is an apt name," Cyril stated simply. "The most distinguishing symptom of the Darksign's curse is the inability to die in natural ways. Those who perish and are marked will always inevitably return after death."
Some disbelief now, but out of respect they continued to listen. Or perhaps they were simply shocked into silence. There was some dawning horror in some faces too, as they began to piece together the puzzle.
"One may be tempted to believe such a curse to actually be a boon, but it is anything but. As those cursed by undeath are doomed to lose their minds and go hollow." Cyril's voice was grim, "Those who lose their purpose, their drive…become mindless husks, consigned to an eternal existence of wandering and attacking any who cross their path without rhyme or reason. Hollows of their former selves. Only those with exceptional will or mental strength can stand the rigors of returning after passing."
If it had been anyone else speaking, there likely would've been some word of protest or skepticism, but even if he wasn't close with all of them, everyone present knew about Cyril; about his honest character, and his selfless conduct.
He wasn't one to joke around.
"To be quite frank…" Cyril smiled weakly, "I sometimes wonder how I never went hollow myself."
"Cyril…" Jean was looking at him with wide eyes, "The story you told me when you arrived…"
He simply nodded.
Amber and Eula also looked more than a little alarmed, likely recalling the injury he'd taken, or in Amber's case, the scars he'd shown her.
Sucrose's eyes were sharp, a rare expression on her face. It was obvious she'd figured out that this was the full story behind the hollows he'd mentioned to her before.
Mona looked aghast, "Are you saying you've…died, before?"
He paused, unsure how to phrase it. Since there was no easy way to couch such a truth, he decided to just be upfront. "Yes. I have."
He loosened his collar, pulling down his scarf to show his bare neck. Someone gasped, he wasn't sure who, as he was currently having a hard time meeting their eyes. But he knew what they were staring at: the jagged marks that showed where he was once almost decapitated by a demon. He didn't even remember when it happened or what kind of demon had done it either, just one of many brutal deaths he'd faced.
"The wound that caused such scarring would've surely been fatal." Albedo confirmed with narrowed eyes, "I am…sorry that you've suffered through this."
"It is the hand I've been dealt." Cyril sighed, covering up his neck once more. "I do like to think I am somewhat accomplished among the ranks of the Undead…but imagine if random citizens, soldiers, merchants, anyone, began manifesting this curse? This ability to escape death, but at a horrible cost? It was chaos. The Undead were routinely hunted. Killed continuously until they submitted or were, as I said, mere hollows of their former selves."
More saddened expressions. Amber looked heartbroken while Mona seemed to be torn between anger and pure sympathy. Kaeya's expression had even gone flatter than he'd ever seen before.
He felt an odd warmth at the concern they showed. And while he hated to cause them such distress, they needed to know so they could be prepared. He doubted anything on the level of the Lords would appear, but there were still quite some unsavory encounters that he'd rather not let the innocents of the land be surprised by.
"Panic...and overreaction." Jean summed it up with a somber expression. She shook her head, "That must've been horrible for you."
"I actually believe I got off rather lightly compared to some of the other Undead…" Cyril shrugged helplessly, "The fear and panic was…not unwarranted either. One of the main ways an Undead becomes stronger is by, well, absorbing the life force of those that they kill. It even became a currency, we called it souls."
There was finally some of the consideration and wariness he'd expected present on some faces, namely those in leadership positions, though surprisingly still no hostility.
"What kind of magic could cause this curse?" Lisa asked, out of genuine curiosity with not a hint of condemnation in her eyes.
"We don't know. Perhaps others have found out by now, but I have no knowledge of the curse's origins. And obviously, not everyone who claims to have such knowledge should be trusted." Cyril shook his head disappointedly, "Over time things equalized, but the damage had been done. Countries were crippled and weakened. The Undead were culled or separated from the main populations of most realms, and then exiled to an asylum near the border of a land you've all heard me speak of: Lordran. I was one of them."
"So that's why you say you lived in Lordran despite being from Astora…" Eula commented. She was peering at him intently, but it almost seemed sympathetic rather than analytical.
"Shouldn't there have been more research done?" Sucrose had a note of quiet dissatisfaction in her tone. Amber nodded emphatically along with the alchemist's dissatisfaction.
"I do not know much of what happened in Astora or its neighbors after I was imprisoned." Cyril shook his head, "But some of the brightest minds I knew of could not figure it out."
"What made Lordran so different? That they would send those afflicted there?" Kaeya asked.
Despite the questioning, there was no air of interrogation, just normal conversation. There were still hints of surprise and disbelief, which was perfectly understandable…but this was truly strange. He'd expected a much more adverse reaction.
It was both baffling and relieving. He caught Mona giving him a small smile beneath her concern, apparently she could tell what he was thinking. Was he that easy to read?
"That is a good question," Cyril dipped his head in acknowledgement, "The answer, however, is actually quite complicated, but it boils down to a key point: Lordran wasn't primarily a nation of humans. In fact, Lordran is said to be the Land of the Gods - who, much like the Archons of Teyvat, created their own nation and governed their peoples."
"... That's right, you did mention them before…" Albedo rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "But I can only imagine the principles of divinity there are not identical to ours."
"According to legends, the Lords gained their divinity from the power of the First Flame, elevating them. Though…" Cyril paused, unsure of how to explain what he'd done, "The power of the First Flame has long since faded, and even the Lords are no more."
"How fascinating." Both Lisa and Albedo answered at the same time.
"Indeed." Jean coughed, "But perhaps we can shelve the discussion on divinity until after Cyril tells his story?"
Lisa and Albedo deflated, but Cyril nodded, "Without any guiding hand, the undead condemned to Lordran sought purpose for themselves, lest they lose their minds. It is unknown who started the legend, but by the time I was freed from the Asylum, there was a prophecy that the Undead were supposed to follow."
Mona made a face at that, "I don't like the sound of that. Prophecies are the tools of charlatans and fakes."
"Ahaha, I'm actually inclined to agree with you." Cyril chuckled awkwardly. "In simple terms, we were given a goal to follow in order to finally receive an answer for why we were struck by this curse."
"Did you believe in that prophecy, though?" Amber asked, her eyes not leaving his.
"Thou who art Undead, art chosen... In thine exodus from the Undead Asylum, maketh pilgrimage to the land of Ancient Lords... When thou ringeth the Bell of Awakening, the fate of the Undead thou shalt know…" Cyril intoned, "I did believe in these words for quite some time. They motivated me through some of my darkest hours."
"What happened?" Eula seemed to understand that something had changed for him.
"...I heard many stories from my travels across Lordran. After ringing the Bells of Awakening, because there were actually two, I found myself facing some hard truths. And I came to realize that our land was doomed, and that the Undead curse was only a symptom." Cyril shook his head, "Most tellingly was that the gods, the ones many humans across the continent believed in, had long abandoned Lordran and even their crowning achievement, their capital city of Anor Londo."
No one knew what to say to that. There were many differences between their lands, but just the idea that the Archons would completely abandon their lands was foreign to them. Even the citizens of Mondstadt mostly believed the Barbatos was still watching them from afar, and if he wasn't, the four winds were still guarding them.
Cyril noticed their expressions, "Lordran was abandoned by the ones who created it, and all that was left were Undead, hollows, and all kinds of beasts and monsters running unchecked across every corner of the land."
Kaeya made a noise of understanding, "You're afraid of these hollows and monsters coming to Teyvat, that's why you've decided to explain all of this to us."
"Yes. I would not let my disdain for the past stop me from making sure this land is prepared for what may come." Cyril nodded.
"So what's this pile of bones and that weird sword used for then?" Amber gestured at the bonfire.
"Undead draw power and comfort from these devices, called bonfires." Cyril answered easily, "Observe."
He pulled out an estus flask, setting it down on the ground in front of him. He then pulled out a dagger and cut a line across his uncovered left palm. His action drew some winces from his friends, but that quickly turned to surprise when he drank from the flask and his wounds disappeared.
He then kneeled, pulling out a sliver of humanity to kindle the fire. He probably should've done this first, in hindsight, but he'd been too caught up in his presentation.
"What is that?" Jean asked, eyeing the glowing black sprite in his hand with a frown.
"I do not actually know, but it is called 'humanity' in my land. I know little of soul theory myself, but some say it is the part of the soul that is lost when an Undead is killed. Lose too much of it, and it causes one to go Hollow." Cyril didn't look like he believed it, "Either way, it is something that Undead need in order to become whole again. It is also used to kindle these bonfires."
Luckily for him, the act of kindling succeeded, the flames roared to life in that familiar perpetual burning Cyril had grown so used to. He made sure to show off holding the estus flask near the flame as it filled up with liquid fire.
"As you can see, bonfires are a source of healing for us Undead, but more importantly, when killed, an Undead wakes up at the last bonfire they rested at." Cyril looked down at the bonfire fondly. "I will admit, the warmth of these flames did much to assuage me after my failures throughout my travels."
There was a period of silence at that.
"...Did...did that happen often?" Amber asked.
"All the time. Despite our common affliction, Undead were more often than not inclined to fight to the death upon seeing one another, because of how we strengthen ourselves. And that's not counting the poor individuals that'd already gone hollow. Mindless and hostile to all. Sometimes, I wonder why I never went hollow myself, despite the number of times I'd been struck down." Cyril sighed, lost in his memories and not noticing the rapidly dropping mood of his listeners.
"That's...terrible," someone whispered quietly. The words snapped him back to the current moment, but he wasn't able to identify who'd spoken.
"It was something we had to accept." He shook his head in response, "Those unable to do so did not last long. The pain of death never truly fades, but eventually one can become accustomed to it. Though that mainly applies to being killed by 'mundane' methods. I still had to rest and recompose myself often, as there is quite a list of unconventional ways I've been defeated-"
"Cyril." He felt someone's hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Jean looking at him, before shaking her head to stop his story. He noticed Amber, Mona, and Sucrose looking positively heartbroken, while Kaeya, Eula, and Albedo were stone-faced. Lisa was morose, similar to Jean's own expression.
"My apologies," Cyril bowed his head immediately, "It's easy to forget that despite our lands' similarities, the differences are still ever-present and significant. I did not intend to cause any discomfort."
Some of them looked like they still wanted to say something, but they kept silent for now. Cyril took that as a signal to continue.
"My first goal this morning is to impress upon you all how foreign, and therefore potentially dangerous, items from Lordran can be. My second is to inform you that I wish to begin writing a sort of...bestiary or encyclopedia of my lands. It will hopefully serve as helpful information for you and anyone you feel it is important to share that information with." Cyril began wrapping up his little show, "I will also be willing to further discuss my lands and history with those who are interested."
He paused for several moments.
"Lastly, with a bonfire successfully lit, I am at your disposal for high-risk assignments. I know it may sound like me attempting to stay in your good graces, given that my existence is an affront to the natural order. Because of that, I understand if you'd rather have nothing to do with me from this point forward. I only ask that you allow me to provide you with my writings and that you let me leave in peace, if you so wish."
Jean looked stricken at his words, surprising him. Eula's and Mona's eyes had narrowed into upset glares. Kaeya had put his face in his palm, sighing deeply. Sucrose looked unsure of what to say and Albedo simply gave him an impassive look. Lisa had folded her arms, a frown marring her normally jovial expression.
But it was Amber's expression that caught him off-guard. She looked livid.
"How could you say that?" She snapped at him.
He wasn't sure exactly she was referring to, but did his best to respond.
"I only wish to ensure that Mondstadt is somewhat prepared-"
"No! How...how could you suggest we start using you as fodder!" Amber's voice trembled a bit. Were those tears in her eyes?
That threw him for a loop. Would it not make sense for the individual who could return to life to take on the most dangerous missions? Before he could voice the question, someone else spoke up.
"You implied that you didn't deserve to exist…" Mona shook her head in disbelief, and no little frustration, "That's just...a horrible thing to say about yourself…"
"..." Cyril attempted to find something to reply with, but he was coming up blank. Amber and Mona appeared to be genuinely hurt by his statements. The rest of the group seemed to also be experiencing varying levels of incense at his words.
Cyril's thoughts turned to the past. Back in Lordran, there'd been one human he'd met who didn't react with disgust upon learning of his undead curse. Only one. And she'd had the benefit of having an undead family member.
So it was a shock to him that they didn't immediately view him with suspicion or anger at having hidden this key information from them. Then, he realized that unlike him, they weren't exposed to the prejudice that was standard in his lands. They weren't raised in a culture that despised the Undead.
While some of them were understandably wary or unsure what to think, in hindsight, it might have been excessive to expect outright animosity against him.
"I...apologize. It's no slight against any of you, but I was honestly expecting a more hostile reaction to this information." Cyril gave a deep bow, "I did not mean to offend."
His words seemed to mollify Amber and Mona, while the others became less tense.
"...I won't deny being surprised, and maybe even somewhat worried about the information you've shared," Jean began, "But you've been nothing except a hard-working, earnest, and gallant individual in the weeks you've been here. There is no way I could condemn you, or anything even close to such an action."
"..." Cyril's eyes widened, before he broke into a soft smile, "If only the leaders of our countries shared those sentiments...I can see that the others support your words. For that...you all have my thanks."
He finally got some smiles and a few nods in response to his grateful words.
"Still, we probably shouldn't go around spreading this information…" Kaeya pointed out as the mood of the group began to lift.
"That's true. We should sort the information Cyril is willing to share with us into categories in order to decide who we'll pass it on to," Jean tapped her cheek thoughtfully, "Cyril, how worried are you about these harmful items or beings making it to Teyvat?"
"...Frankly, I'm not entirely sure of the danger myself. If it were just some nameless hollows in tattered gear and armed with rusted weapons, I would trust any trained professional to handle them with no issues." Cyril frowned, "But there are other beings or forces that could even destroy an entire city."
"Do you mean something like the Darksign appearing on our own citizens?" Jean asked, sounding not at all happy with that idea. Which was perfectly understandable.
"No, I believe there is little chance of that happening. Only the humans of my world are susceptible, as far as I can tell. The reason I say this is because I've observed that though we may look similar on the surface, the composition of our souls are different from your peoples' souls. Though I have no idea as to why this is the case," Cyril shook his head. Albedo and Lisa looked intensely interested once more, but held themselves back for now.
"That's good news, at least." Kaeya shook his head, then stretched and yawned. "I don't know what I was expecting when I woke up this morning, but all this wasn't it."
Cyril chuckled in response, before refocusing. "What I am more worried about is monsters, murderers, and all kinds of unsavory things making themselves known. As an extreme example, there was an unknown, eldritch force that wiped out an entire city of people, twisting the city's inhabitants into horrid monikers of their original form, and causing them to attack all others on sight. We called it the Abyss."
"Oh, so that's why you were asking all those questions about the Abyss Order before…" Lisa realized.
"Yes, the shared name caught my attention at first, though I have since concluded that there is no relation between Teyvat's Abyss Order and the Abyss that plagued my lands." Cyril nodded in confirmation. "Which, in hindsight, makes sense."
"You sound like you have quite the history with this Abyss you speak of," Albedo pointed out curiously.
"Two large cities, almost as large as Anor Londo, were driven to complete destruction by the Abyss." Cyril grimaced, "It can corrupt both body and mind, and by the time one realizes, it is normally too late. If anything Abyss-related ever appears, it would be best that I handle it, as I have a method of protection against its influence."
"..." The group fell into a thoughtful silence.
"It appears we have much to learn…" Jean finally said, "I believe we'll need some time to go over the information you've provided us so far, Cyril. Do you plan on beginning to work on compiling the information on Lordran immediately?"
"Yes, it would be best if I could get the key information recorded so it may be copied quickly. That would be the most efficient method to go about this." Cyril nodded, "If it's alright with Lady Lisa, I'll be utilizing the library for this."
"Of course." Lisa smiled, "And I'll be glad to lend a hand too, as your editor."
"M-Me too!" Sucrose nodded with a determined expression. He noticed that she was carrying the journal he'd left with her, her fingers tightening around it.
"You have my thanks." Cyril inclined his head gratefully, "I'm sure you have much to discuss amongst yourselves. If you have any questions, please seek me out immediately. For now, I will go about finishing this bonfire. Ah, the flames are mystical in nature, and won't spread to burnable material."
The leaders of the Knights of Favonius nodded at his words, breaking into their own conversations with one another as they began filtering out of the room.
He pulled out some stones to make a ring around the bonfire. He'd just dropped a large amount of information, of rather fantastical nature, on them, but they seemed to be taking it well.
No, they were handling this better than he could've ever imagined. The fact that they still considered him an ally or friend was stunning, in all honesty. It was baffling.
He felt someone poke his chainmail through the gap at his elbow joint. He turned to find Amber watching him, a small smile on her face. "You okay?"
"I am well, La- Amber." He quickly corrected himself. "I must admit, you and the other knights took my revelations with remarkable aplomb."
"Did you think we'd throw you out or something?" Amber pouted, though there was some hurt in her eyes at the very idea.
"Despite bearing it, I do not understand the mysteries of the Darksign. It wouldn't have surprised me to have been exiled for security purposes when facing such a mystery." Cyril didn't repeat aloud what he'd said about how Undead were treated in his world. He doubted Amber would appreciate it.
Her expression turned rebellious at his words, but he could tell she understood where he was coming from.
"Heh. I was right though, wasn't I?" Mona spoke up, apparently having stayed behind as well. She had a smug expression on her face, her arms folded as she grinned at him.
"Yes, you were. I suppose I still haven't fully grasped the nature of Teyvat's people yet. Yet I am glad to be proven wrong." Cyril inclined his head in acknowledgment of Mona's earlier encouragement. "Would you care to join me for lunch? I wish to express my gratitude for your kind words."
Mona flushed at his earnest thanks, averting her eyes and twirling her hair a bit. "I…I suppose that's acceptable."
"Would you like to join as well, Amber? I regret my preconceptions of your reactions, and I can only thank you for your kindness and acceptance." Cyril asked her as well.
"...Sure!" Amber glanced at Mona, whose expression had returned to its normal impassiveness, "I'd love to!"
The two young women seemed slightly preoccupied after that, but Cyril couldn't quite figure out why.
Regardless, he was happy to have those who trusted him even after such a (relatively) short time.
He would do his utmost to ensure that trust is well-earned.