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“Teyvat has its own laws.”
A saying told across generations, a lesson wrapped in reverence. To challenge the Heavenly Principles is to court an eternal silence. No one dares to defy them, hoping to be always protected, always strumming the strings of life in a steady rhythm.
The Tsaritsa of Snezhnaya, however, has other plans.
Behind the icy, tightly sealed doors of the Zapolyarny Palace, she stirs a quiet rebellion—a rebellion of ancient artifacts setting its own melody to the land’s song.An artifact of chilling beauty—a brooch in the pristine image of a Cryo crystalfly—finds its way to Il Capitano, the First of the Fatui Harbingers. Rumor has it that this brooch holds the power to influence hearts; to enter one's mind at will. There's only one condition: the subjects need to be in a strong emotional state. This is but the first of many; relics that are said to have driven back the Abyss in the age-old days of Teyvat. Sources of power so potent, if wielded together all at once, could rival the Heavenly Principles themselves.The Captain swears (his faith, though questionable) that he'll do whatever it takes to see Her Majesty’s plans through. Around him, the other Harbingers stand in a semi-circle, each a study in fascination and restraint, their shadows cast in the flickering candlelight.Dottore leans closer, his voice dripping with intrigue. “A piece of jewelry that can unleash elemental energy and manipulate minds at will… fascinating, indeed. I look forward to seeing what you have in store, Captain.”Tartaglia’s grin is feral, eyes bright with an eager, restless energy. “With something like this, why not go all out?”Arlecchino chides, a soft disdain in her words as she glares. “How immature. Even a child knows better than to rush into things recklessly.”And then, Columbina’s voice drifts through the chamber, lilting and rich, as if the brooch itself has struck some chord deep within her. “A Miraculous... Her Majesty knows how to stir the depths.” She glides forward, resting a featherlight touch on The Captain's shoulder. “There are seven in circulation; each with their own unique gifts.” With a firm grasp, Capitano lifts the brooch, his voice low but resolute. “Indeed. My first plan is simple: to draw out whoever holds the remaining Miraculous—let’s see who dares.”“Aaaand here are the Scions of the Canopy, total action seekers!” Paimon announces, pointing with a tiny hand at the Natlanese folk soaring above with grappling hooks clenched in each of their hands. Messengers, extreme sports enthusiasts, and fighters alike, everyone in this tribe seems to live up to their name, darting across the tall trees that form a comforting canopy for passersby below. “Oh, and Paimon should mention, it’s also home to the Yumkasaurs!”The Traveler’s gaze is warm as she looks to their guests, Lyney and Lynette, who wave at the saurian whelps curiously eyeing them. “We’ve come a long way, let’s rest.”Lynette, looking both satisfied and a touch fatigued, nods. “That would be much appreciated. I’ve been in low-power mode for some time.”“I told you not to have that last slice,” Lyney grumbles, crossing his arms. “You know we’ve got a show tomorrow, Lynette.”With a roll of her eyes, Lynette objects. “On the contrary, that slice of cake was essential. Without it, I might not have made it this far. And besides, it’s you who looks more wound up than anyone.”Lyney releases a breath, caught somewhere between a sigh and a nervous laugh. “I just want our first tour to go off without a hitch.”“You worry too much.”“Yeah, Lyney, loosen up!” Paimon chirps, ever the optimist. “You guys will do great.”But even as Lyney offers a faint smile, his gaze wanders, shoulders weighed down with anticipation. His mind is already elsewhere, running on days of adrenaline, and a hint of anxiety in his eyes—a carefully concealed weight only Lynette might notice. Lyney opens his mouth before she can comment, but the words hang in his throat, attention stolen by a lone figure in the distance.The figure stands, a silent presence at the edge of the crowd gathered on the cliffside platform, high above the chasm below. His posture is casual, arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the wall in wait. His eyes lock with Lyney’s from across the plaza, his expression illegible—the headscarf draped over his eyebrows making it all the harder to read.Lyney feels a prickle of unease along his spine. There’s something about the man’s gaze; sharp, appraising, as if calculating something Lyney hasn’t yet figured out. His gaze shifts onto the golden-haired traveler beside them, then—a flicker of softness finding its way in those blazing eyes.“Hello, Kinich.” Traveler greets the mysterious individual and steps aside to make way for the twins to introduce themselves. “Here are our esteemed Fontainian guests I was talking about.”Lynette settles on quietly waving, while Lyney bows, a hand graciously placed over his chest. “Hello there. I am Lyney and this is my sister Lynette.”“They're here for the magic show!” Paimon adds, “It’s their very first time performing outside of Fontaine.”“The Traveler spoke highly of you,” Kinich replies, his voice even and calm as it reaches them. “I am Kinich, a saurian hunter. Welcome to Natlan, on behalf of the Scions of the Canopy.”“Did you sort things out with the chief?” Paimon asks.“Mhm”, Kinich gives a tiny nod, still that indecipherable look on his face, “Allow me to show you to the inn.”The sound of footsteps against the wooden bridge accompanies them as Kinich leads, his presence both steady and quietly enigmatic. Curiosity finally gets the better of Lyney, and he leans forward, hands interlocked behind his back and voice soft with inquiry.“Excuse me, Mr. Kinich–”“Just ‘Kinich’ is fine.”“Kinich,” Lyney corrects himself, “if you don't mind me asking, is there a reason you look so… puzzled?”The silence stretches for a beat. Paimon and the Traveler exchange a glance.“I had a question in mind,” Kinich says at last, his tone heavy with thought. “But every question comes at a price, so I decided to wait and find the answer on my own.”A spark of intrigue lights in Lyney’s eyes, his earlier tension dissipating. “Well, now I’m even more curious!” He protests, lighthearted and teasing. “Come now, there’s no price to be paid as long as it’s within my abilities. Shoot.”Kinich’s silence stretches, then softens, his gaze turning contemplative. “I was wondering… what is ‘magic’, exactly?”“You’ve… never heard of magic?” Lyney asks in disbelief, the words slipping out before he can mask his surprise. To him, even Natlan itself feels steeped in magic—the ancient rhythms of its culture, the molten rivers of Phlogiston flowing beneath, the whispered legends in the wind…
Surely, Kinich must know of it?
“Of course I have,” Kinich huffs, a hint of defensiveness in his voice, “In ancient texts and stories of wars long past. Not in today’s world.”“Mm…” Lyney’s gaze flickers with a spark of mischief as he strokes his chin, glancing between Kinich and their surroundings. “In that case, I have an idea. How about a little demonstration?”Kinich tilts his head. “Isn’t that your line of work? I can't possibly ask for such a thing for free.”“Oh, cut it with the ‘price’ talk, we're friends now!” Lyney grins, his wrist flicking in a gesture of dismissal. “In fact… wait, what’s that, hiding behind your ear?”He barely suppresses a chuckle as Lynette sighs in silent exasperation, clearly bracing herself for his antics.“Hmm? What is it?” Kinich raises a hand to his ear in confusion, but Lyney is quicker, reaching out to brush the hand aside as his fingers linger behind Kinich’s ear with an intentional slowness. Kinich tenses, the faintest shiver trailing down his spine as he feels Lyney’s light touch. His breath hitches, just barely. Paimon’s eyes widen, a delighted “Ooh!” slipping out before she covers her mouth.“Aha! What have we here?” Lyney’s hand reemerges, revealing his prize with a theatrical flourish: a vibrant Rainbow Rose, freshly plucked from Fontaine. Its petals comb Natlan’s warm sunlight, allowing it to pass through in a vibrant hue. Kinich’s complexion mirrors the rose’s color in a heartbeat—flushed pink.“How…?” Kinich’s voice falters, utterly captivated, as Lyney’s smile grows all the wider, pride glinting in his eyes.“Oh, but it wouldn’t be magic if I told you, now, would it?” he teases, a playful wink punctuating his words.Kinich looks away, the cool composure he carried moments before melting away in Lyney’s hands. “...I see. So that's what you meant by ‘magic’.” A beat, “Thank you for showing me.”“If you thought that was impressive, just wait until you see the twins both in action!” Paimon chimes in. “You should check out their performance tomorrow if you have time,” Traveler adds.Kinich's answer is simple and fast. “‘Kay. I’ll be there."Lyney’s face glows with satisfaction, the thrill of unveiling magic to someone for the first time filling him with a familiar delight. Beside him, Lynette watches with barely disguised exhaustion, her gaze drifting toward the door of their assigned inn. She seems mere seconds from pulling him inside on her own, her patience with his theatrics stretched thin but quietly enduring—this time, at least.The night air in Natlan carries a warm humidity, the kind that sticks to the skin and lingers even as the stars twinkle brightly above. Lyney sits outside the small inn he and Lynette have settled into, his eyes distant as he watches the trees below his feet sway gently in the breeze. The grand performance is only hours away, yet he can't shake the tightness in his chest, the restlessness that churns in his stomach like a storm.From inside his pocket comes a faint purring sound.“Hmm? Did I wake you?” Lyney asks softly, his fingers brushing against the fabric.The source of the noise responds to the motion—a tiny spirit, shaped like a sleek black cat. It phases through the fabric of Lyney’s pajamas like a shadow slipping through light.“Nyeow, was already awake,” the creature lies, sleep dripping off her voice.Lyney chuckles under his breath, though his eyes remain trained on the horizon. “Is that so...”“Is everything alright, Lyney?” She tilts her head, ears swaying with the sudden move.Lyney’s fingers shift restlessly, turning the silver ring he wears over and over. “Just thinking about what you said before we headed out,” he murmurs, his tone low. “That I might have to fight soon.”“Well,” the cat says, settling herself neatly onto his lap, her dark tail curling like smoke, “this is Natlan, the nation of war. It’s inevitable, isn’t it? We spent two weeks together, and no akumatized victims yet. It’s only a matter of time.”Lyney’s grip on the ring tightens.“But hey—don’t let it get to you!” she chirps, lightly batting at his hand with a paw. “You’ve worked hard! Practiced so much! You’re ready for anything, I know it!”Her encouragement earns only a faint hum in response. Lyney’s hand drifts from the ring to the hem of his jacket, tugging at the fabric like it might unravel the knot in his chest. “Practice is one thing, performance is another,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not like—”"Lyney?"The voice cuts through the quiet like a grounding tether. Smooth and calm, yet filled with a quiet strength.“Rosseland, hide!”Making sure his companion is safely tucked back into his pocket, Lyney turns to find Kinich standing a few feet away, his posture easy but his eyes glinting with quiet curiosity. His presence feels like the steady warmth of a crackling fire—grounding and reassuring, a perfect counterpoint to the tempest of thoughts swirling in Lyney’s mind.“Couldn’t sleep?”"You could say that," Lyney admits before hesitantly motioning to the space beside him. "I figured I'd get some fresh air before the madness starts."Kinich settles next to him and tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing with intrigue. “You’re about to perform. Isn’t that your element? Traveler and Paimon told me you turn into a completely different person once the spotlight’s on you.”“It’s funny how that works,” Lyney leans back, supporting himself with open palms. “The more people watch, the more you can hide behind the act…”This isn’t just about the show, Lyney thinks to himself, the more people watch me perform, the more difficult it’ll be to protect them should they be in danger.“...but before it all starts, when you’re alone with your thoughts—well, that’s when the doubts creep in.”“Y’know, staring at the trees won’t tell you tomorrow’s outcome."Lyney chuckles faintly, though the sound lacks his usual energy. He figures it’s okay since Kinich barely knows what his usual energy even looks like. "You sound so sure. What's the price for a prediction, then?"Kinich raises a brow. "It’s not predictions I deal in. It’s preparation. But since you look like you’re about to snap that thread in half, I’ll offer this one for free—stop rehearsing the worst-case scenarios. You're only wearing yourself out."Lyney tilts his head, rolling his eyes at Kinich. "And what do you suggest I do, oh wise saurian hunter? Ignore the thoughts?"Kinich shrugs. "Not what I meant. I’m not the person to soothe your worries. I do know a couple things about performing, though.”“Mm.”“If you mess up a trick tomorrow, will it be the end of the world? No. Will your sister stop looking up to you? Doubt it…”
Will the injured recover? Will the broken be fixed?
“...will your audience still come back for the next show? Most likely."The words stick, heavy but grounding. Kinich adds, "The only thing you really owe anyone is to give it your best shot. No more, no less. The rest is on them."For a moment, Lyney says nothing, dangling his feet off the edge of the wooden platform. "I don’t know how you just made everything sound so... simple.""That’s because it is. Complications only come into play when you start overthinking.” Kinich smiles faintly, “And you, magician, seem to be thinking enough for the both of us."Lyney laughs, this time more genuine. "Alright, alright, point taken. But don’t think you’ve tricked me into forgetting how high the stakes are.""I don’t do tricks, you do. And I’ll be there to watch you tomorrow.” Kinich reassures, a hint of warmth similar to the one in his eyes when he talks to the Traveler.“Tomorrow, huh?” Lyney mutters to himself, more to fill the space that lingers between their words than anything else. “Guess I’d better get some sleep then.”Kinich stands, brushing imaginary dust off his pants. “Yeah, rest. You’ll need it.”As he starts to walk away, Lyney calls out softly, "Kinich?"Kinich pauses, glancing back over his shoulder."Thanks," Lyney says, the weight in his voice lighter now.Kinich nods, his tone steady. "Consider it a one-time deal."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Behind the makeshift curtain draped across the Scions of the Canopy plaza, Lyney stands alone, absentmindedly rubbing a hand over his fingers concealed beneath a pair of gloves.“Rosseland?” he murmurs, glancing toward the curtain. “Are you sure everything’s fine out there?”Lyney’s companion passes through the thick fabric with ease, leaving a trail of magenta-hued sparkles behind. “Yep! Looks good to me!” she chirps with a high pitch, tail flicking in the air in carefree confidence.Lyney bites his lip as he scans the stage once more. “I just… hope nothing disturbs the show tonight,” he mutters, “Everything has to be perfect.” He then lowers his gaze, taking a deep breath to steady himself, his shoulders taut with the weight of expectation.A calm voice interrupts him. “It’ll be fine, brother.”“Ah!” Lyney spins around, hastily trying to shield the small creature behind his back. “Lynette! Since when were you standing there?”“Since now,” she replies nonchalantly, one eyebrow raised as her calm gaze settles on him. “Is something the matter?”“No, no, it’s just…” He stumbles over his words, Lynette’s skeptical stare growing sharper the longer he hesitates. “…a little embarrassing, that’s all. You, uh… caught me talking to myself.”“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” she shrugs, an air of mild suspicion lingering still. “Do you feel ready?”As though snapping back into character with the press of a button, Lyney straightens up, adjusting his bowtie with a practiced motion. He clears his throat, regaining his composure with ease.“Ready as ever. Let’s give them a night to remember.” He flashes a grin, but Lynette merely nods, already turning toward her designated spot.“Ladies and gentlemen, and any saurians who may be watching us tonight…”Kinich weaves carefully through the bustling crowd, his height affording him little advantage in this sea of eager spectators. The plaza is alive with energy, a mix of the Scions of the Canopy, the People of the Springs, and the Children of Echoes, all gathered to witness the performance. A polite nudge here, a step to the side there, and finally, Kinich secures a clear view of the stage.“Welcome to the show!”The voice rings out, smooth and commanding, drawing thunderous applause from the crowd. The noise crashes against Kinich’s ears, making him wince slightly, but his eyes remain fixed on the figure in the center of it all.There stands Lyney, his presence magnetic with no spotlight necessary. The flick of his wrist, the tilt of his head—each movement is precise, the audience an orchestra and Lyney its brilliant conductor. Kinich finds himself captivated despite the discomfort from the roaring crowd.“Tonight you are not merely spectators, but participants in a journey of illusion,” He continues, Lynette’s calm presence contrasting his bravado as she steps in. “Together with my dear sister Lynette, we will blur the line between reality and dreams!”With a theatrical wave of his hat, Lyney releases a stream of floating phlogiston aphids. They scatter into the darkened sky, their golden glow leaving trails of light as they encircle the audience. Gasps ripple through the crowd, crescendoing when the aphids burst into red sparks and vanish into the night.“For our first act, we’ll revisit a timeless classic—a game of cards. Shall we play?” Lyney asks, his voice carrying the faintest challenge.Now, as Lyney spins a deck of cards in his hand with practiced dexterity, Kinich’s eyes narrow, trying to catch subtle movements that betray the illusion. He watches Lyney’s fingers dance, the faintest shimmer of the cards reflecting the evening glow. But it’s not just the sleight of hand that holds his attention—it’s the expression on Lyney’s face.Kinich remembers how Lyney had smiled at him yesterday, not with the exaggerated showmanship he wears now but with something gentler, more genuine.He remembers the conversation they had, feet dangling off the cliff edge, voice all soft and honeyed. On stage, Lyney’s voice rises in an exaggerated act as he addresses the audience, drawing laughter and applause with an ease that seems almost unfair. Kinich’s lips press into a thin line.Lyney scans the crowd, his eyes settling on a young girl near the front row. She hesitates, but when the magician extends his hand, she takes it, her curiosity outweighing her shyness. The audience watches as he guides her onto the makeshift stage, his touch gentle and reassuring.“Pick a card from the deck,” he instructs, holding out the fanned cards. “But don’t show it to me—or my sister.” His smile deepens as he gestures toward Lynette, who stands a few steps away, her gloved hands clasped neatly in front of her.The girl carefully plucks a card and presses it close to her chest. “Now, show the audience,” Lyney adds, stepping back to give her space.The girl turns, holding up her selection for the crowd to see—a bold ace of spades. The audience murmurs in approval, but Lyney keeps his expression neutral as he hands the deck to his sister.When the girl is done, Lynette steps forward, presenting the deck again with a slight nod. The girl places the card back into the stack, and Lynette begins to shuffle with deliberate precision. Her movements are smooth, her hands a blur of practiced efficiency, until—suddenly—the cards slip from her fingers and scatter across the stage.Laughter spreads through the crowd as Lynette immediately kneels to collect the cards, her expression stoic despite the mishap.“Tsk, tsk,” Lyney says, shaking his head as he strides toward her, his voice carrying a playful chide. “My dear sister… you know how important this show is to us, don’t you?” He gestures toward the cards on the floor, then steps closer, his tone dipping into mock severity.“You couldn’t even make sure your cape was worn the right way?” He tuts again, reaching down to the edge of her cape.The audience shifts in their places, intrigued, as Lynette pauses in the middle of gathering the scattered cards. She tilts her head up at Lyney with the faintest flicker of calculated curiosity in her expression.“Allow me,” Lyney declares.When he fumbles with the hook, Kinich almost chuckles, the motion clearly intentional despite its feigned spontaneity.With a dramatic gesture, Lyney finally unfastens the cape from her left shoulder and flips it inside out, the leather rippling in the air.“There! Much better!” he announces, holding it up to display the vibrant blue ace of spades painted on the reverse side.Kinich exhales sharply through his nose. The audience gasps in unison before applause erupts.Lynette rises to her feet with calm composure, brushing a few stray hairs from her face. Though her calm expression remains, a subtle lift of her brow hints at the shared understanding between the siblings.The girl returns to her place, clutching her hands to her chest with wide-eyed excitement, and Lyney turns back to the audience.“For our next trick,” he says, his voice laced with intrigue, “let’s raise the stakes.”Lynette walks backstage, her brother continuing his monologue: “What you’re about to witness is not merely magic; it’s a test of trust, precision, and perhaps, a touch of madness.”Something about the tone of this introduction feels… different. Kinich catches himself leaning forward.After some time, the quiet assistant steps back in, pushing a tall, polished cabinet onto the stage. Its surface gleams under the lanterns, its sides intricately carved with patterns resembling Mondstadt’s gothic spires. With a motion of her brother’s head, Lynette taps the cabinet with her knuckles, the hollow sound echoing across the stage.“Empty, as you can hear,” Lyney says, swinging open its double doors to reveal the hollow interior. He steps inside, turning to face the crowd as Lynette silently secures a set of heavy iron handcuffs around his wrists. The clasps click into place, the metallic sound cutting sharply through the evening air.Kinich’s brows knit together. Restraints? This is no card game or conjured flowers.“This is the Cabinet of Defiance,” Lyney continues, a faint smirk playing on his lips, “Inside, my dear sister will secure me in these bonds and—” he pauses, his eyes glinting mischievously, “drive several swords through the cabinet.”
The door snaps shut.
Gasps and disbelieving laughter resonate through the crowd, but Kinich doesn’t laugh. Lynette steps forward, holding a collection of long, silver blades.“Fear not,” Lyney reassures, his voice breezy despite the severity of the act. “This illusion is perfectly safe… if done correctly.”Perfectly safe? The words ring hollow, especially when paired with the genuine blades Lynette now examines with meticulous care.Lynette’s movements are calm, deliberate, as she begins inserting the swords into the cabinet. The first pierces through with a metallic screech, its tip protruding from the other side.Inside, Lyney’s voice calls out, still cheerful but muffled by the cabinet walls. “And here I thought I’d have the cushy part of the job tonight...”The crowd chuckles nervously, but Kinich’s focus remains unshaken. He narrows his eyes, scrutinizing every detail—Lynette’s precise angle, the way Lyney shifts inside the confined space to avoid the swords…
“Don’t think you’ve tricked me into forgetting how high the stakes are.”
The second blade slides through, then a third, each finding its mark with pinpoint accuracy. The audience holds their breath as Lynette adjusts her gloves and lines up the final sword, longer and heavier than the rest.“Lynette,” Lyney’s voice cuts through the hush, a mock-worried tone, “I trust you’re aiming well?”She doesn’t respond, her expression cool and focused as ever. The sword plunges in with a solid, ringing impact.A second, two, three…“Still alive, no worries!”The crowd bursts into scattered applause and relieved laughter, but Kinich stays silently waiting. It’s not over until he comes back out, after all.“Now comes the fun part!”With a swoosh, Lynette yanks the swords free one by one. The final blade is slower, its removal deliberate as if to draw out the suspense.When the last sword clatters to the stage, the cabinet doors burst open, and Lyney steps out unharmed, the audience erupting into cheers.Kinich exhales softly, the tension in his body easing but not fully dissipating. He’s surprised to feel any tension at all. Has their conversation from yesterday truly affected him that deeply? Or, perhaps, it’s the goal of the whole performance?As Lyney takes his bows, his eyes sweep over the crowd and briefly meet his. For a fleeting moment, the showman’s mask falters, revealing something raw beneath.
Kinich’s breath catches in his throat.
It wasn’t madness, he knows—it was calculated risk. A gamble Lyney plays with confidence, knowing the stakes. As if to apologize for the near heart attack he'd just delivered to his new friend, Lyney gives Kinich a playful wink before those eyes disappear into the crowd’s adoration once again. Kinich feels the weight on his shoulders lift, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he shifts his focus to continue watching the siblings—quickly interrupted by a sudden tremor running through the ground beneath his feet. Sharp and violent.His heart skips a beat, and for a moment, everything seems suspended in that split-second of unnerving stillness, before the ground shakes once more, accompanied by a deafening cry that echoes through the air, long and pained. Panic ripples through the crowd, and they begin to scatter in every direction, their frantic movements adding to the sudden chaos.Kinich scans the sea of faces, searching for Lyney’s violet eyes, but neither the magician nor his sister is anywhere to be found. His gaze shifts, this time searching for the Traveler and Paimon. Gone. The mounting panic in the crowd makes it harder to focus.“Snooooore.” A muffled voice buzzes from inside his pocket. “You make a terrible hero, y'know that, right?”“...and here I thought I’d heard the end of you for tonight,” Kinich mutters.“How could you let your precious Lyney get caught up in all this? Too busy mooning over him, huh?”Kinich’s eyes narrow as another loud wail cuts through the air, the sound jagged and haunting as it echoes off the mountains. He stiffens, his gaze snapping to the distance. Over the tops of the greenery, he catches sight of a pair of fluffy, green-tinted ears rising ominously. Is that… Kongamato?"Not now, Ajaw," Kinich hisses, glancing over his shoulder. Pushing through the sea of bodies sweeping him in all the wrong directions, he manages to get backstage, making sure no one is watching as he ducks into the shadowed corner.“You were sooo focused on him you didn’t realize what was happening! Maybe you should try focusing on doing your job instead. You know, actually saving people?"Before Kinich can respond, Ajaw flies out of the jacket tied around his waist, his pixelated form shimmering in the dim light. Hovering in front of Kinich’s face, the tiny dragon-like entity cackles, pointing a claw directly at him.“Uh-huh, and whose job was it to keep watch?” Kinich shoots back, crossing his arms.“Uhm…” Ajaw hesitates, his confidence faltering for a split second. Then, puffing up his chest, he proclaims, “The great dragon lord, K’uhul Ajaw’s magnificent form can only do so much before being recognized by someone! You should be grateful I didn’t blow your cover!”Kinich raises an unimpressed brow. “So you just snacked in my pocket the whole night?”“I replenished my energy! For this moment!!!” Ajaw flails his tiny arms indignantly, his shimmering form flickering briefly before regaining stability.Kinich rubs his temples, exasperated. “Right… enough of this.”His fingers trail over the smooth surface of the bracelet secured around his wrist, his touch lingering on the intricate carvings etched into its golden band. “Ajaw, transform me.”For a split second, Ajaw freezes, a mischievous grin spreading across his glowing face. “Now we’re—” His words are abruptly cut off, drowned in a flash of golden light as his form spirals into the bracelet.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Get to safety!”The words cut through the air, sharp and commanding. It’s the first thing Kinich hears as he swings toward the source, his movements effortless and agile in his transformed state. His new form feels weightless and unfamiliar—moving as freely as a wild Qucusaur. Instead of the grappling hooks his tribe is known for, a yo-yo whirls in his grasp, its string unerring as it hooks onto a sturdy branch.He adjusts his grip on the surprisingly durable string, the weight in his palm unfamiliar yet instinctive. Grappling hooks, his tribe’s specialty, are actual tools of warriors. This? This feels ridiculous. But with a companion as insufferably childish as Ajaw, perhaps the choice is fitting.With a flick of his wrist, Kinich takes his final swing toward the towering figure in the distance: Kongamato, the Mountain King. Despite his calm and collected approach to any exchange, he can't help but feel a knot deep within him at the thought that his first akumatized victim is the ancient protector of his tribe…
All the more reason to resolve this as quickly as possible.
Kinich lands with a practiced grace that betrays his inexperience with this new form, much to Ajaw’s dismay who cannot express his fury from within Kinich’s bracelet. A faint sob tugs at his focus.He turns toward the sound—and freezes.Standing in the shadow of a toppled tree is another figure, clad in sleek black—a man whose bright green eyes glint beneath the mask of his suit. The man stops whatever he was doing prior, his posture tense yet poised as his gaze locks with Kinich’s.
“Your power is creation…” Ajaw flies around his subject, “...which cannot exist without destruction. Think Yin and Yang—y’know, the Liyue legend?”
Kinich is certain they’re both thinking the same thing right now.
Good, no time to waste.
Right as if on cue, the man in black points a finger at him, claws sharp. “Are you—”“Yes,” Kinich cuts him off with a curt nod, his attention shifting back toward the source of the sobbing. A child huddled behind a bush, hands clutching his knees, body trembling. Then, he looks back at the Yumkasaur.“Can you distract it?” He says without even facing the other miraculous holder—his tone less of a question, and more of a command.“I…” A brief hesitation. The man in black follows Kinich’s gaze to the towering form of the Mountain King—a hulking, akumatized beast whose every step leaves devastation in its wake. He exhales sharply, steadying himself.“I can,” he says, determination threading his words. Without another glance, he sprints toward the monster.Kinich doesn’t waste a second. He kneels by the child, offering a reassuring pat on the head despite the chaos. “It’s okay. I’ll get you somewhere safe.” Gently, he helps the boy onto his back, securing him with a makeshift harness of yo-yo string.“Hold on tight, alright?” Kinich murmurs before swinging away.“Alright, Lyney,” he mutters under his breath, steeling himself. “Distract the giant, save the day. Simple.”He looks down at his weapon, a sturdy iron stick he can extend however high he wants at will. Then, up at the creature, whose slow but destructive movements continue to ravage what's left of the affected area. Trees, bushes, campsites, even some poor saurians he couldn't manage to save on time…It looms over Lyney, foot raised to create a shadow just above his figure.
“The only thing you really owe anyone is to give it your best shot. No more, no less.”
He thinks about the mysterious soon-to-be partner of his.
“The rest is on them.”
Lyney is not alone. The rest is on him.…He leaps into the air, barely evading the stomp, using his staff to propel himself higher. “Hey there, big guy!” he calls out, his voice laced with mockery. “Why don’t we hug this one out?”He raises to belly level, retracts his stick mid-air, and re-extends it to slam the Mountain King right in the stomach. The creature roars, its massive claws swiping at him with deadly force. Lyney falls outside of its reach at just the right time, taking advantage of gravity and the useful weapon of his.“Can't catch me!” he taunts, landing lightly before springing into motion again. Each movement is precise, every leap and dodge calculated. When it turns around with its entire body in full force, the ground beneath them shakes violently. Lyney jumps again, avoiding another punch from the enemy.“Missed me, missed me again~” He keeps provoking it, treating this deathly dangerous situation like one of his shows.The creature shakes its body and a substance hued in yellows and blues falls out, missing Lyney by mere inches. He grimaces, sparing the strange matter a wary glance.“Mon Dieu, are you bad at this!” His faux confidence almost seeps into reality for a moment. Before he can analyze the colorful thing further, it sucks it back with its tongue and Lyney feels something tugging sharply at his waist. Thin threads of green yo-yo string wrap around him, yanking him backward.“Wh—”“Careful!”In an instant, he’s pulled away from Kongamato’s reach, landing securely in the arms of the other hero. Kinich’s gloved hands grip his arm firmly, and their bodies are pressed close as they swing to safety.“Could’ve given me a warning, no?” Lyney quips, his voice sharp despite the faint chime of the oversized bell at his collar swaying with the wind. “You’re welcome for the distraction, by the way…”“That’s called a flamegranate.” Kinich tilts his head back, motioning Lyney to look at the scene behind them without even acknowledging the sassy remark that’d been thrown at him. When Lyney obliges, he sees the tree that was behind him mere seconds ago blown up into flames, the mysterious goo apparently named “flamegranate” living up to its name.“Whoa, that was close!” He chuckles nervously. “I had no clue… thank you.”“Consider it a thank-you gift for the distraction,” The man in the colorful suit replies, no sarcasm in his tone. The genuine acknowledgment catches Lyney off guard, almost exciting him, though he quickly tamps it down.“My pleasure. Now we can take care of it…”
“You can set fire to anything you touch,” Rosseland’s voice rings in his memory, light and playful. “Say the magic words, and everything shall be destroyed.”
“So, when I’m done, do I just destroy the butterfly too?” Lyney scratches his head, confused. The thought of killing a creature as simple as a butterfly doesn’t come to him as a difficulty, and for that, he doesn’t know whether to be happy or sad.
“Oh, good heavens, no!” Rosseland gasps with mock-horror painted on her face, “That’s your future partner’s job. They’ll know what to do!”
Kongamato roars, stomps, and continues to paint the surroundings in crimson fire. Lyney’s arms are looped around his partner’s neck as they dangle precariously from a branch, surveying the chaos below. Despite the dire situation, a light flush creeps across the magician’s cheeks at their proximity.
Focus, Lyney, focus!
“Any… uh, any idea where the akuma might be?” he asks, attempting to shift his attention to the task at hand.The other hero, whose true identity Lyney remains blissfully unaware of, doesn’t seem bothered by their closeness. In fact, he stands firm, allowing the man with cat ears to cling to him like a flying squirrel to a quenepa berry.“Not yet”, he admits, eyes narrowing to inspect the creature thoroughly. It looks exactly like the fluffy, fat Yumkasaur he used to visit as a child in its slumber—except now it looms larger, more imposing. Its movements are fluid, unassuming even. Nothing strange held in its claws either. Where else can a saurian store a suspicious object? Its…“Wait,” Lyney interjects his thoughts, shifting his weight as he raises a hand to point. “Look at its mouth. When it opens its jaw to spit out the flamegranate—”“Keen eye,” Kinich compliments the man still in his grasp. “It’s holding two of them at the same time, so…”“...the other flamegranate must have the akuma in it,” they conclude in unison.Lyney giggles, earlier anxiety almost melting away after seeing first-hand how skilled and observant his partner would turn out to be. “I knew we’d make a great team!”“Can’t make that judgment yet,” Kinich says, despite the corners of his mouth tugging into a knowing smile. “Ready to play?”“Born ready!”With that, Lyney extends the collapsible stick in his right hand as Kinich releases him, retracting his yo-yo to swing toward Kongamato. Lyney follows close behind, his movements quick and feline.“Lucky charm,” Kinich shouts, the yo-yo in his grasp shining brighter than the stars hanging above. An object materializes in the light and he catches it mid-air, holding it firmly in his palm before landing in unison with his partner.Lyney cocks his head, a clawed finger tapping his chin.“A whistle? What are you supposed to do with that?”“Only one way to find out.”Without hesitation, Kinich presses the whistle to his lips and blows hard. The sharp sound from the lucky charm mirrors the Yumkasaur’s cry, forcing the Mountain King to quickly turn toward them. Its guttural scream answers the whistle, their tones eerily aligned. Realization flashes in Kinich’s eyes, a plan taking shape in an instant. “Follow me!” He commands, Lyney twirled at his fingertips.The catlike hero matches Kinich’s pace as they leap onto the soft creature’s back. Kinich's yo-yo thread encircles the creature, looping and tightening like a lasso to keep its movements in check.“I got this,” Lyney holds onto a stray string and lowers himself all the way to the Yumkasaur’s closed mouth. At his signal, Kinich blows the whistle again. Kongamato roars, its cry abruptly silenced as Lyney wedges his stick between its jaws to keep them open. It nervously flails around while he climbs in, settling on its slimy tongue.“Gods, that’s disgusting,” Lyney mutters, grimacing at the thick saliva pooling around his boots. A sudden jerk of the creature’s head sends him sliding toward its throat. He catches himself just in time, the stick serving as his lifeline. Isn’t his partner in charge of holding this thing in place?“Sorry,” yells that voice he's sure he'll get accustomed to hearing with time. Lyney can’t help but smile at the apology, even in the midst of their perilous situation.His gaze shifts to the flamegranate nestled inside Kongamato's mouth. It pulses faintly, matching the creature’s labored breaths. Pity flickers in Lyney’s chest—it isn’t the poor creature’s fault it’s been corrupted.He inches closer, extending a gloved hand. “Cataclysm,” he murmurs, Pyro energy crackling to life at his fingertips. The fiery glow intensifies as he hesitates, then finally makes contact with the cursed fruit.A blinding flash of red is the last thing Lyney sees before quickly yanking his stick free and jumping out. That's Kinich’s cue to let go of Kongamato and get to safety, too.Before both of them hit the ground, a deafening boom ripples through the air, shaking the surrounding trees. The force of the explosion sends Lyney tumbling into the grass. Kinich lands gracefully beside him, crouching down to meet Lyney’s gaze.“Are you okay?”“Yeah,” Lyney decides, tone unexpectedly shy as he brushes the dirt off his suit. “Are you?”“Mhm,” Kinich nods, shifting focus to the enemy at hand who's fallen down from the impact of the fruit exploding in its mouth. Embered eyes frantically search for the prized butterfly, locating it flying free in the direction the spectators who’ve begun appearing atop the cliff. Lyney is quick to react, leaping towards them, those green eyes laced with anxiety once again.“Hey, the danger’s not over—stay back!”Kinich joins him, weapon at the ready to catch the butterfly. The yo-yo case opens and snaps shut inches from a messenger’s face, startling him and causing him to fall back.When the two heroes step toward the crowd together, everyone begins gathering around. Lyney sighs in frustration at their disobedience. Kinich locks eyes with him, a reassuring glow in his gaze, then blows at his lucky charm—the whistle, to silence everyone. He steps forward, his movements deliberate, but there’s a hesitance in the way his eyes sweep over the crowd. He clears his throat, gripping the whistle still dangling from his hand."Alright, everyone, listen up. I’m not much for speeches, so bear with me here," he starts, his tone measured but blunt, an honesty that feels oddly comforting. "What just happened—it wasn’t an accident…” He shakes the yo-yo still containing the butterfly inside. “It was coordinated."Gasps ring out. Lyney nods, affirming his partner’s every word.Kinich shifts his weight, glancing at the crowd. "I know it’s easy to look at something like this and think it’s all chaos and destruction, but it’s not. There’s a purpose behind it—one we’re definitely going to figure out. You’ve got my word on that."He exhales sharply, rolling his shoulders like he’s shaking off the weight of the moment. There’s something oddly familiar, something human in that single motion that catches Lyney’s attention. Kinich continues."My partner and I… we’ve been chosen to protect you. Wherever these butterflies—akumas—show up; whether it’s Natlan, Sumeru, Liyue, or anywhere else, we’ll be there. That’s not a promise I make lightly, but it’s one I intend to keep. You don’t have to understand every move we make or even trust us completely. Just trust that we’re not going to stand by.”He looks at Lyney, then the scene behind them. “Oh, and one last thing, of course.”Kinich steps back, throwing the whistle off the cliff's edge. As it spins through the air, the object shatters into a kaleidoscope of light—brilliant streaks of color unfurling into the shapes of little saurians. They wash over everyone like a gentle wind. The smoke begins to lift, its heavy scent dissipating into the night. The charred trees rise from their fallen state, their trunks straightening, their leaves shimmering as if kissed by the unseen breeze. The saurian spirits leap and fly joyously around Kongamato, guiding its great form back toward the depths of the caverns it had emerged from. The crowd stirs in awe as the transformation unfolds before them, their wide eyes catching the brilliance of the moment. Children’s laughter echoes in the air, while adults exchange looks of disbelief as their injuries heal before their very eyes. It’s as though time itself has been coaxed back into place, the delicate balance restored.Amid the mesmerizing scene, Lyney’s eyes find Kinich—his gaze locked on the quiet hero, lips slightly agape in admiration. Kinich watching the world shift around them with a small, unaware smile playing at the corners of his lips... it is all Lyney needs to see for a flicker of warmth to bloom in the depths of his chest.After a while of waiting for the crowd’s excitement to die down, Kinich continues. “If you see anything strange, don’t try to handle it yourself. Report it. Keep your families safe. And maybe avoid wandering too close to the wildlife for a while. As soon as we hear word of danger, we’ll be there."“Well said, partner!” Lyney declares, spinning his staff before striking a pose that seems to dazzle the more impressionable onlookers. Kinich tilts his head, eyebrows raised through the mask in confusion at the sudden change of demeanor. “What’s with the switch-up?”Lyney smiles softly, his expression more sincere as he leans in. “We’re not just here to fight their battles, are we? Let’s give them something fun to hold onto, too.”He turns back at the crowd. “Rest assured, dear citizens, you’re in the best of hands—or claws, depending on the situation.” Some people actually laugh.His partner dead-pans at him. “Are you done?”“Not even close,” Lyney whispers mischievously, leaning in again with a wink. Then, louder for the crowd, “But for now, stay safe and remember—your new heroes are always watching.”As Lyney executes an exaggerated bow through the applause, Kinich turns away and mutters under his breath, “Unbelievable…”“Wait!” A girl from People of the Springs raises a hand, quickly stopping Kinich who’s eager to leave the scene. “What are we supposed to call you two…?”“Hmm,” Lyney pauses for a moment, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “How about… Mysticat? I think it conveys my powers and my nature quite well." He meows with a hand—paw—raised up. "What about you?” he nudges Kinich lightly.Meanwhile Kinich scoffs, disbelieving in himself that the first thought that sprung into his mind is a name of such importance. Can he really allow himself to indulge in such an idea?“Call me Malipo, then,” he replies before he can conclude his thoughts. Some “ooh”s pass through the crowd. “The ancient name? How daring!” a man exclaims in excitement.“Well, Malipo,” Mysticat says with a grin, “I look forward to—”
But before he can finish his sentence, he’s already swinging away.
“...working with you again.” he finishes anyway, and the audience gives him another laugh, this time sympathetic as he bashfully rubs the back of his neck.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The days following the akuma attack weigh heavily on the two heroes.For Lyney, restlessness takes root, coiling deep in his chest. The magician is left emotionally wrecked by the unfortunate coincidence he feared he’d have to face eventually—an akuma striking during a performance. Although the situation is stable thanks to his and Malipo’s efforts, the anxiety left from it creeps ever-growing. What if he was alone? What if he wasn’t enough? What if they face an opponent so strong they're BOTH not enough one day?As their tour continues, his dear sister and the Traveler catch onto his worries, each day bringing a new conversation about how “the mysterious heroes of Teyvat have everything under control.” The words fall flat against Lyney’s worries.The moment Lynette—his other half—gives his shoulder a reassuring pat and tells him that the heroes will keep them safe is when he feels the most frustrated. I am the hero, he wants to scream, your safety is in my hands. But instead, he swallows it down, plays his role—the big brother, the leader, the protector. If he’s to maintain the illusion, he has to act like there’s nothing to worry about in the first place.Rosseland purrs and meows reassuring phrases at night, curling up beside his pillow, her Pyro energy a gentle warmth against his skin. But there’s only so much a cat can do. Can she even be considered a cat?Lyney bets she and Freminet would get along well.Some nights, he wonders if it should have been Freminet. Or Lynette. A fleeting thought, chased away as soon as it forms—he wouldn’t wish this burden on either of them; it is heavy enough on his shoulders alone.The morning he first met Rosseland remains vivid in his mind, only short of a month ago. He remembers adjusting his hat, preparing for another routine performance, only to find a tiny black cat spirit peering at him from beneath its brim. His first reaction was laughter—disbelief painted across his face. Rosseland, in turn, recounts this memory with devilish delight, tail flicking with amusement whenever she reminds him. Like her chosen wielder, she finds joy in the first look of surprise in people’s faces.After the laughter fades, she introduces herself as a “kwami”, a magical being sent by a mysterious “guardian” to find someone worthy of wielding her powers. Says the guardian told her that “this world needs its heroes,” or something. Lyney finds it reckless—who entrusts such power to a complete stranger? But Rosseland speaks of her guardian with unwavering respect. Her admiration is evident in the way she drifts in circles and whips her tail when reminiscing their memories.At first, Lyney dismisses the entire ordeal as nonsense, almost locking the ring away in a forgotten drawer in his room. However, the kwami’s startling demonstration of her abilities leaves no room for doubt.It’s hard to come up with a believable enough lie as to why his new bedsheets were burnt to a crisp. Lynette must think her brother is going crazy.Despite Rosseland’s adoration for her guardian, any attempts to speak of them end in failure. Whenever she dares to give the tiniest hint, her mouth moves, but the words bubble up and fall all jumbled and senseless. She says the “rules” bind her. This new life—this new responsibility—carries an overwhelming sense of secrecy and mystery.So, Lyney stops questioning and starts training instead. This is where his role as a child of the Hearth comes in.Years of discipline under the Knave have already forged him into a capable fighter. Working under the Fatui since he was but a little kid, Lyney has wielded multiple weapons and continuously grows in agility, creativity, and deception—all skills that translate well into the world of miraculous holders.He carries out each mission in the House with near-spotless accuracy and surprises even Rosseland with his skills. Under her guidance, he keeps transforming in deserted parts of Fontaine. Near the old laboratory ruins, in the depths of Poisson before someone can catch sight of him… he has an escape route for every possible situation. Needless to say, he adapts quickly to his life as Mysticat. His weapon, which he grows accustomed to through trial and error with a polearm, quickly becomes an extension of himself. The Pyro coursing through him is exhilarating, alive.Now, the miraculous are no legend. Anyone educated in Teyvat knows of phlogiston—the source of all elemental power—and that it can only be channeled through the miraculous. They’re known to have gone missing after the Archon War, with Barbatos rumored to be the final wielder. Outside of this fact, countless stories circulate on what the miraculous really are, how they were crafted, who the artisan behind them even is, or how everything came to be… they all differ from region to region. If you ask Mondstadters, they’ll claim Barbatos locked the miraculous away for they were too dangerous for mankind. According to Liyueans, Morax made a contract with the Heavenly Principles for the same purpose. Amongst the tales, one universal truth remains constant: only the chosen may wield their power. Only those with a miraculous will ever know what crackling fire feels at your fingertips, how much weight a single, thin vine can hold, why the holder of the butterfly brooch lies with ice-cold hands clasped at his heart at night…
Only those with a miraculous know.
Ajaw chooses Kinich thinking he’ll be easy bait.Quiet, unattached, unremarkable—he figures one wrong move, and Kinich will crumble. A quick failure. A temporary amusement.He is sorely mistaken.A strange case, Ajaw is. Among all the other kwamis, he’s the only one constantly wishing destruction upon his companions, having made a name for himself as “the most difficult kwami to deal with”. The guardian—half amused, half exasperated—chides him before sending him off, saying Teyvat needs his “almightiness, or whatever.” That simple motive is what gets Ajaw to tolerate the thought of a new partner. When Kinich finds the bracelet buried deep within the ruins he’d gone investigating, Ajaw appears with his chest puffed out, declaring himself his guide, his mentor. “I’ll give your miserable life some meaning,” he boasts.Kinich, in response, blinks.Their partnership is rocky from the start. Kinich, too pragmatic to be easily rattled, doesn’t rise to Ajaw’s provocations. It’s infuriating. The saurian kwami spends his days poking and prodding, testing Kinich’s patience, only to be met with unimpressed silence or deadpan retorts.The worst part? Kinich is good.Coming from a rough childhood, and a tribe of daredevils, he knows how to fight. He trains relentlessly, adjusting to the double-edged sword that’s his yo-yo. The most impractical, most ridiculous weapon. The fact that he doesn’t complain only makes it worse.At night, Kinich swings from tree to tree, refining his movements, sharpening his control. Occasionally, he utilizes these newfound powers to carry out his saurian-hunting work. When he de-transforms and Ajaw starts to grumble as usual, sometimes the mention of a “guardian” slips up. At moments like these, Kinich tries to bribe his insufferable little friend with all kinds of snacks. Grapes, berries, you name ‘em. Having no concept of self-control, the saurian gives in, talking for as long as his form can with the restrictions. It doesn’t help much when there’s not even a name or pronoun to go by. If he pushes too far, the kwami huffs, declaring he “isn’t a pet parrot” before retreating into his pocket.Between the two kwamis and their respective miraculous holders, the conversation of “partnership” is the one that pops up the most often. Rosseland tells Lyney not to stress too much, as she trusts the saurian kwami to find a suitable partner for him to work with. While Ajaw is… well, Ajaw; provoking Kinich with outlandish what-if scenarios to both prepare him for the worst, and to get a satisfying reaction out of him.“What if the akumatized guy ends up destroying, say… the Stadium of the Sacred Flames, and the entire structure crushes Mavuika to death?”“Okay, now you're being completely ridiculous,” Kinich scoffs, “The Archon wouldn't go down that easy.”Ajaw grins. “Wow. Get a load of this guy! What are you, her brother-in-arms?”“Technically, I will be soon.”Ajaw screeches.As prepared as he was for it, Kinich doesn’t sleep the night after the first attack.His mind spins, picking apart every weakness in their current system. The butterfly miraculous could be anywhere—how will people alert them if there’s an attack? How will the heroes respond? Mysticat has an advantage, able to travel freely across borders. Malipo does not. The moment Kinich leaves Natlan, the Ley Lines will take their toll. Will the miraculous protect him? Or will it fail him the moment he’s too far from home?
And what about the situation in Natlan right now?!
The Abyss is pressing forward, growing stronger. While their compassionate leader does her best to push them back, Kinich knows the impending war can’t be avoided. How can he balance the duty of protecting his home and the rest of the world, while they both feel increasingly fragile each passing day?Lyney wonders the same thing. Malipo is clearly Natlanese—his chosen name alone speaks volumes. If Lyney struggles to balance his own responsibilities with his new role, then Malipo, whose nation is already at war, must be carrying far more. He wonders if he ever fought in the Night Warden Wars.
He wonders if he was in the audience that day, watching his performance before disaster struck.
Throughout his remaining days in Natlan which pass in a blur, he searches Malipo in the faces of passersby. The power shielding their identities is so frustratingly strong, that even the smallest hint can't point him toward anyone in the crowds. He recalls Rosseland referring to this power as “quantum masking”…whatever that is.He has one day left before Traveler escorts him back to Fontaine, and yet…“It’s okay, Lyney,” he tells himself. “You’ll find him again.”“Find who, exactly?”“Lynette!!! Stop sneaking up on me!”The twins take their final bows, the thunderous applause ringing through the stadium like the steady beat of a war drum. Even the Archon, Mavuika, rises from her seat, clapping with the kind of warmth that belongs to rulers who love their people. A distraction like this is just what Natlan needed, she hums to herself. A little spark of joy amidst the chaos fast approaching.The glow of the stadium’s fires paints the crowd in shades of ember and gold, flickering like a dream he wants to hold onto just a little longer. For the first time in a while, Lyney feels like he can breathe.But all performances must come to an end.As the twins step off stage and into the quieter halls of the stadium’s inner chambers, the doors swing open—only for an explosion of confetti to rain down upon them."Congratulations!!”The voice belongs to Mualani, the ever-enthusiastic girl from the People of the Springs, who waves a handful of freshly emptied confetti poppers like twin swords. Kachina holds shimmering phlogiston-infused jewelry in her tiny hands, standing at Mualani’s side. With what little height she has, she reaches over to Lynette on tiptoes, and the girl bows down gracefully to accept the necklace being put on her neck.Traveler and Paimon emerge from behind them, each holding up one side of a long, handmade banner—an endearingly messy, crayon-drawn masterpiece of two stick-figure magicians surrounded by little sparkles and hearts.“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” Lyney starts, already smiling, but Paimon cuts him off with a firm huff.“Nonsense! You two worked so hard for this, so now it’s our turn to celebrate you!”Just as Lyney is about to step forward to thank them properly, a quiet presence draws his attention.Kinich stands at the edge of the group, a bouquet of Brilliant Chrysanthemums held carefully in his grasp. His posture is stiff, a little hesitant—like someone unused to partaking in grand gestures but determined to see it through anyway. His gaze flickers up, meeting Lyney’s, and the edges of his normally sharp expression soften."Congratulations," he says, voice steady, warm in a way Lyney hasn't quite heard from him before.For a split second, Lyney forgets himself.The next moment, he’s already closing the distance, practically throwing himself into Kinich’s arms. The force of it nearly sends them both stumbling, the bouquet crumpled between them as Lyney wraps his arms around Kinich without hesitation.Kinich’s breath catches. His body locks up in pure instinct, hands hovering in the space between them as if unsure where to place them. Slowly, hesitantly, he lifts a hand, letting it ghost over the small of Lyney’s back before finally resting it there.A hum escapes him—something Lyney immediately mistakes for discomfort."Ah—sorry!" Lyney chuckles awkwardly, pulling back just enough to look at Kinich’s face. The magician’s gloved hands carefully take the now slightly crushed bouquet, brushing his fingers lightly over the petals before taking in a deep inhale of their scent. His grin doesn’t falter for even a second. "They're beautiful!"Kinich exhales, rolling his shoulders slightly, as if grounding himself. “I hope you like them,” he says simply. Then, after a pause, “And… thank you.”Lyney tilts his head. “For what?”Kinich’s gaze flickers, searching for the right words. “For showing me what magic is,” he says at last.Lyney stills. The teasing remark he had lined up vanishes before it can form. For a moment, he only watches Kinich—really watches him, as though seeing the sincerity beneath the usual deadpan exterior for the first time.Then, he smiles.“‘Like’ them? I love them!" He exclaims, giving the bouquet another delighted sniff before glancing back at Kinich. "And I’m the one who should be thanking you. What you said to me the other day helped more than you could imagine.”Kinich huffs lightly. “Consider your debt repaid, then.”Lyney places a dramatic hand over his heart. “But you’ve trapped me into another one now! Say, what’s the price for these beautiful flowers?” It’s like the rest of the environment has gone quiet for them, the girls engaged in their own conversation with occasional glances towards the two.Kinich exhales through his nose, but his lips twitch slightly. “Hmm… let’s see,” he fake-muses. “I suppose your friendship would suffice.”Lyney snorts a laugh. “You already have that, silly. How many times do I have to remind you?”Kinich shrugs, looking away briefly—whether to hide the way his ears tinge red or to signal that the conversation is over, Lyney isn't sure. “Then I guess this is me accepting it,” he simply says, nodding toward Lynette as if to suggest Lyney return to her side.Lyney lingers for a moment longer before rejoining his sister.An hour passes by, then two, filled with laughter, food, and drinks. Lynette is particularly taken with Natlan’s chocolate, savoring each bite with the quiet satisfaction of someone who has found the absolute best version of something they already love. Lyney agrees, though he finds himself more fascinated by the little saurian-shaped crackers that crunch satisfyingly between his teeth.Long after the confetti settles and the plates are cleared, Lyney finds himself still holding onto the bouquet. His fingers brush absently over the petals. The scent of chrysanthemum lingers, familiar yet foreign, like a memory not yet made.Some participants of last night’s feast wake early, ready to see the twins off toward the border between Natlan and the rest of Teyvat. Kinich lingers at the edges of the farewell, watching but saying little. The logical part of his mind keeps him rooted in place—his duty is here, guarding the land. Another attack may happen soon, after all.Still, when Lyney turns back for one final wave, Kinich finds himself gripping his arm a little tighter, as if resisting the urge to reach out. He can hear everyone’s well-wishes all drowned out around them.
One last wave, and then they're gone.
Kinich watches Lyney’s back grow smaller and smaller, a flicker of violet amidst the golden light of dawn, before finally disappearing into the horizon.A familiar, grating voice pipes up beside his ear.“Yuck,” Ajaw sneers, tone dripping with disdain. “So sappy.”Kinich rolls his eyes—a bad habit he’s gained from spending too much time in Ajaw’s company. “What do you know?” he mutters under his breath.Nearby, Ororon and Iansan exchange confused glances.“We don’t engage in weakling behaviors such as falling in love,” Ajaw continues smugly. “It is our followers who kneel at our feet in admiration.”Kinich makes an abrupt turn on his heel, striding away with more force than necessary.Iansan’s brows shoot up. “Have you ever seen him act like this?”“No,” Ororon hums, watching Kinich’s retreating figure. “That is to say, I’ve barely seen him at all in the recent days.”The fourth of the Fatui Harbingers, Arlecchino, accepts the brooch from the weary yet imposing Capitano’s hands.“My part of the agreement is done,” his chilling voice proclaims, the weight of his presence as heavy as the steel he wields. “We know now that the miraculous holders respond to attacks.”Arlecchino twirls the brooch between her fingers, watching how the dim candlelight catches the delicate edges of its design. “And you’ll be returning to the Natlan case, I presume?”“Yes.” Capitano’s gaze flickers past her, to the distant horizon beyond the frost-laced windows. “My work there remains unfinished. I’ll leave the rest to you.”“Such a shame Dottore isn’t here to give these another test drive,” Pantalone muses, his smile sharp and amused as he watches the exchange.Arlecchino offers no reaction at the mention of the Doctor’s name, merely fastening the brooch to her uniform. The instant the metal meets her chest, it shifts seamlessly—morphing into the shape of a four-pointed star, blending in as though it had always been there. A perfect illusion. A perfect lie.“I’ll have my children look into the case,” she murmurs, smoothing a hand over the brooch as though testing its weight.Capitano gives a slow nod.The silence that follows is heavy with unspoken implications. Where the Captain moves like an executioner carrying out a sentence, Arlecchino moves like a puppeteer pulling at invisible strings. The objectives given to her are clear—to observe, to test, to push. But beneath those orders, another goal flickers in the depths of her crimson gaze. A goal that belongs to her and her alone.She turns on her heel, the echo of her shoes against the marble floor fading into the cold night.