Chapter Text

1.1

The night air is still when Ganyu raises her bow, an arrow trained on the one with long purple hair donning a matching-coloured hanfu, as the golden leaves of the sandbearer tree she conceals herself in pause their dance. She can faintly hear the rush of the nearby waterfall from here, its waters flowing all the way down to where her basecamp is located.

The tautness of the string is as easy as breathing, speaking to her in vibrations she has studied since birth. Rex Lapis tells her it was her mother who had given her her first bow, but she has long passed now, only living on through the stories the adepti claim to be true. 

The tales of the qilin and her strength, her love, her compassion. Ganyu can’t help but wonder if her mother were here today, what would she think of the chaos of war that has hurt this nation? Of the years upon years that Ganyu has dedicated herself to what is meant to be a noble cause?

What would she think of her daughter raising her bow and arrow at a seemingly innocent human? 

There are a few maids trailing after the human, who simply waves them away. She is supposedly the young lady of the house, home to a nobleman who has betrayed Liyue. It’s all Ganyu really knows of her. The commander had pulled her aside late last night, vaguely issuing the young lady’s death as “punishment for a traitor” in a hushed voice amongst the sleeping soldiers. 

She had questioned the necessity of it, the morality of it, to no avail.  

“Your contract is with Rex Lapis, but he has entrusted you to me. This is all to protect Liyue and its people. You don’t want to go against that, do you?” 

Ganyu rids herself of such thoughts, re-focusing on the task at hand. This war is much larger than herself, and in honouring her contract, she will continue to follow her duties. If this is what needs to be done to protect the future of Liyue, then the conflict she feels is only a momentary distraction.

She still finds herself hesitant to release her arrow though, and perhaps it is because of this that when she blinks next, she feels the cool touch of a blade against her throat, threatening to break through her skin, and an electrifying presence behind her. The human has disappeared from Ganyu’s sight, and with a gust of wind, she sees long purple strands of hair in the corner of her eye.

She didn’t know the young lady knew how to fight, led alone wielded a vision. 

Out of fear that any sudden movement may put her in a more compromising position, Ganyu stills, breathing deeply as she assesses her options. She doesn’t know how skilled her opponent is, but to be able to detect her presence and to react so fast with the power of electro, it's enough to tell her that this wasn’t going to be an easy fight.

It’s not the first time a blade has been pushed against her neck, nor the first time she’s faced a vision bearer, an allogene, when she herself is visionless, and she’s certain it won’t be the last either. However, when a bright red streak cuts through her thoughts, the golden leaves paling in comparison, she knows deep in her gut that she cannot win. The red seems to be some sort of string — barely noticeable if it weren’t for its stark contrast to the tree — tied around her ankle. She follows it with her eyes, and it appears to be tied to the ankle of the young lady who has a blade to her neck.

The implication of the red string — of its presence letting itself known to her…

It changes everything.  

She had heard about this from the adepti, of the red string of fate. The myth she had dusted off when she was a child, of the red thread that connected destined lovers. The thread that stretches, tangles, but never breaks. Maybe it was her silent belief that the adepti were not designed to fall in love because of their eternal life that she dismissed the tale, but now, as she sees their ankles connected with her own eyes, her heart floods with confusion.

How could an adepti like herself have a destined lover? How could this supposed lover be mortal nonetheless?  

Despite the stillness in which Ganyu operates, processing her thoughts with the patience that comes with having all the time in the world, it is in another blink of an eye that the blade at her neck is gone. 

Ganyu had not noticed it earlier, but there is a sweetness in the air that she manages to catch when she finally faces the human. The young lady’s eyes — purple with pink hues, Ganyu notes — are filled with disbelief as they study the string. There’s an underlying curiosity in them too when their gazes meet, and Ganyu is… 

Ganyu is mesmerised. 

Maybe it’s the way the moonlight caresses her skin, the way it makes the cor lapis pendant that hangs around her neck sparkle, or maybe the purple crystals in her sharp eyes that has taken her breath away. But for the first time in a long time, Ganyu feels her heart beat, thrumming rhythmically in her chest, and she thinks — knows — that this is what it truly feels to be alive. She had forgotten what it was like, amidst the chaos of war.

She can’t help but release a soft, “oh” at the sight of the young lady, and it is this small utterance that snaps the human out of the trance she was in, eyes sharpening as she brings the blade up again.

“You were going to kill me,” the woman asserts, voice sharp, bold, and beautiful. The blade points to her neck again in a threatening manner. A questioning look remains in her eyes, “Why did you hesitate?”

Ganyu doesn’t know what overcomes her to feel so certain, but she leans forward until the point of the blade just barely touches her neck. She reaches for the handle, ghosting over the human’s hand as it is lowered once more. 

“A feeling,” She answers. Her voice sounds loud to her own ears. “And you?”

The human raises a brow, silently asking her to continue.

“Why did you hesitate? You could have easily slit my throat with your blade.”

The young lady peers back at her, a calculating expression on her face. She glances back down at the string connecting their ankles. 

“That same feeling, I suppose.”

Ganyu opens her mouth to speak again, to ask if she knows what the string represents, but a voice from the ground interrupts them. It is one of the maids from before frantically calling for the lady of the house, and the human before her sighs as she stands on the branch. 

“I must go,” she states, pausing for a moment, as if unsure of what to say before continuing. “The guards will not be notified of this, so leave before they catch wind of you here.”

“Thank you.”

“Well then,” she nods her head and offers a perplexed “goodnight” before landing swiftly on the ground and startling the poor maid. 

Ganyu remains still, watching the human receive an earful about wandering off at night as they make their way inside. When the doors slide shut and not a person remains, she makes her leave, bow strapped to her back as she finds her horse and returns to camp under the guise of the night. 

It is not how she had expected this task to go — to have failed it in such a way — but the small warmth budding in her chest is something she knows is so special that she can hold no remorse.

She silently wonders — if her mother was in her shoes, would she do the same?

1.2 

When Ganyu awakens the next day, it is to the usual groans of soldiers preparing themselves for the grueling training ahead. She has always been quiet here, never quite fitting in with humans despite her half-blood relation to them, but it is not as so that she is out-casted. Her peers respect her, and she to them, but sometimes respect isn’t enough to stop the force of an angry commanding officer demanding her whereabouts.

She picks herself up when the announcement comes to her under the pitying gazes of her peers. She walks with heavy steps over the gravel and dirt, carefully weaving through horses and carts as the sun stands proudly above them, nodding to the stable boy in acknowledgement as he grins at her brightly. The commander’s tent isn’t far by any means, but the human traffic of soldiers getting their first meal of the day is enough to add on a few extra minutes. 

Ganyu takes a deep breath, bracing herself for the conversation ahead, and allows the guard outside to lift the sheet, signaling her to enter.

The commander doesn’t acknowledge her presence. He sits behind the desk, papers laid in front of him with an ink brush in hand. His skin is laced with patches of yellow, black hair hiding in strands of white, and the wrinkles around his eyes grow in appearance every time Ganyu sees him. 

With a sigh, he places the ink brush on the stone tablet and looks up at her, the corners of his eyes downturned in a look of disappointment.

“Ganyu,” he begins with another sigh, “Oh, Ganyu.”

The condescending tone makes the hairs on her arms stand. 

“What am I going to do with you?” the commander asks with a slight shake of his head. “Tell me what happened.”

Ganyu stands a little straighter, swallowing before speaking to cure the dryness in her throat, “Something... unexpected happened that prevented me from fulfilling the task.”

“Oh? And what might that ‘something unexpected’ be? And do remember to address me properly - Rex Lapis would be so disappointed to hear about such bad manners.” 

“My apologies, sir,” she tries not to grit out. It’s with the patience of hundreds of years that she follows his orders, “But the young lady has a vision. Given the unexpected circumstances, the lack of information, as well as my own lack of a vision, I thought it best to return to base so that further assessment of the situation could be done before such drastic measures would be taken.” 

It’s not a lie by any means - the vision did take her by surprise. She simply does not trust this man to the extent of relaying what else she had found at the estate. Her destined lover. Her supposed soulmate. She would rather be punished than to let him have this part of her.

His hand pauses slightly over the parchments of paper, as if surprised by this revelation. Ganyu can’t tell his genuinity. He continues after clearing his throat, “That is something unexpected indeed. However, a spoiled brat with a vision scared away one of Rex Lapis’ adepti? To fail such a simple task for someone of your calibre... This is incredibly saddening, Ganyu.”

“Who is this spoiled brat you speak of?” a voice weighs upon the conversation. It is deep and rich in nature, grounding all to its presence. The source of the voice lies at the entrance of the tent, the flap pulled up as the figure of a broad shouldered man walks through. His arms are blackened with stones, his antlers stand proud, and the white robes he dresses in frames him elegantly. The man continues with a small upward tilt of the lips, “I hope you weren’t talking to my adepti that way, commander. Although I left you in charge, they are still ultimately my people. I’ll have none of that language here.”

Rex Lapis, the geo archon. 

The smile that leaps onto Ganyu’s face is one of pure joy as she places her hands together and leans forward in a bow of respect. She had not seen the beloved archon ever since she was assigned here a few months ago, and it is with a warm heart that she greets him again. Her happiness is short-lived as her attention is drawn back to the commander stumbling over his words.

“Of course not!” the commander laughs, hurriedly standing up to greet the archon in a deep bow, “I would never speak to your adepti that way - I was merely scolding her for failing a simple task, that is all.”

“Ganyu failed a simple task? How unlike her,” Rex Lapis strides up to the desk, passes the commander, and sits down on the chair. His regality never fails to awe her. “Do tell me more.”

The archon sighs when the commander fumbles and fails to answer him. He turns to Ganyu, eyes kind, “What was the task?”

Ganyu stands straighter once again, this time with the assurance of Rex Lapis in front of her, “I was pulled aside late last night for a solo mission to silence the young lady who lives near the waterfall. Her father had committed treason and this was his punishment. Although I did visit her, there were unexpected circumstances that have led to me determining that killing her was not the solution.”

Rex Lapis nods his head, eyes closed as he considers her story. When he opens them again, they are hardened with glowing amber stone. “Killing an innocent bystander… What exactly about this is ‘simple’, commander?”

“Given her status as an adepti,” the commander frantically justifies, beads of sweat forming at his temple, “And her prowess as a warrior-”

“My adepti are not tools for such cowardly acts. I have assigned them across the region to provide aid and reinforcement to the soldiers in order to raise morality. To have them used in this way is an utter indication that you hold no respect for this war. Is this a game to you? The lives of my people treated so carelessly - almost as if your loyalty is not to this nation but to yourself.”

The commander’s head lays low. He looks small like this, as if he were a mere skittish rat in the face of a dragon.

“Nothing to say in response?” Rex Lapis prods. He pauses for a brief moment before raising an eyebrow and leaning back in the chair, “Do you think I am a fool, Commander?”

“I-” a nervous gulp, “I would never think that, sir.”

“Explain this to me, then, if you would be so kind,” he signals another guard who brings in a pile of dirtied parchment paper, laying them out on the desk as the commander’s eyes twitch in fear. His skin pales, and his cheeks hollow as he falls to his knees in shock. It doesn’t take long for him to beg for forgiveness. Rex Lapis stands from the desk, and the ground trembles increasingly with each word. “Letters upon letters addressed to- no, blackmailing a merchant into with-holding food supplies. Charging civilians hundreds of mora just so they have food to bring back to their families when it shouldn’t have cost them any at all. Especially in the circumstances of war. The merchant tells you he can’t keep it up, so you ask my adepti to kill his only daughter? Have you no shame?!”

The commander whimpers under the wrath of an archon.

Rex Lapis snaps his head towards the soldiers positioned at the entrance of the tent. The trembling halts, but his eyes remain a glowing golden amber. “Get him out of my sight.”

The guards lunge forward without another word, the commander apologising, begging for another chance with his hands clasped together, his eyes watering with grainy tears. He is dragged out with no mercy despite his thrashing, and his cries grow distant until Ganyu can no longer hear him. 

The situation perplexes Ganyu. Her supposed fated lover nearly died by her hand due to her former commander’s selfishness and greed. Perhaps she should be grateful that he had ordered her to do it and not some other poor soldier. The thought of another taking the shot, striking the young lady with their arrow twists her guts. 

She shakes herself out of the train of thought, and her eyes fall to Rex Lapis, who looks at her curiously.

He walks them and his attendants past all the soldiers who pause in disbelief at the archon’s presence, and leads them to a small river - the one that connects to the waterfall. Along the way, they talk of the happenings each have witnessed over the course of the past few months, of the neighbouring evacuations of people, the scarce resources, as well as the overall morale of the soldiers. She mentions how life has been for her ever since she was stationed here - how the training has been pushing her to her limits, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Rex Lapis recounts how the other adepti have been - Moon Carver injured under a recent attack at his camp but nothing serious, the others fairing well at their designated stations. 

When they reach a large tree by the river that provides decent shade, Rex Lapis conjures a mock table and two seats out of stone, painting a calming picture. The grass is soft under their feet, and the river sings a quiet song as the fish in the water dance along. The attendants place a warm pot of tea and a pair of matching cups on the table - Ganyu knows not where it came from, but she finds herself distracted by a familiar sweetness that rises in the air.

“Have a seat,” the archon urges, his voice kind and wise towards her. He pours them both a cup as she sits down, and the smell grows stronger. “I can tell something is troubling you, Ganyu. I am always here to listen.”

Ganyu pauses for a moment, she had thought her emotions and worries and excitement had been contained well. However, Rex Lapis and the other adepti could always read her like an open book - they were the ones who raised her after all. Her hands rest around the tea cup, and she remembers that sweetness from the young lady up on the tree last night. The way the wind blew, her beautiful strands of purple hair, the sharpness of her eyes. 

“Last night, on the mission the comman- the former commander made me go on,” she begins, unsure of how to proceed. “The young lady…”

Rex Lapis hums in acknowledgement, sipping the tea quietly as he waits for her to gather her words.

“I saw- I saw the red string,” Ganyu ushers out. “It was this tiny, thin, beautiful red string that tied our ankles together. She saw it too. And there was this, this feeling in my chest, like I had known her all my life. But it was the first time I saw her. The first time I ever saw someone as beautiful as her.”

“It appears fate has drawn you two together. This is utterly delightful news, thank you for telling me,” He smiles softly around the cup, and his eyes grow kinder by the second, as if they could get any fonder. It doesn’t take long before the corners crease with a slight worry, “But then, what is troubling you, child?”

Ganyu cradles the warm tea in her hands, “I’ve lived for hundreds of years, and seen eras change and develop and thrive and die, but throughout it all, immortality has always been our constant.”

Rex Lapis nods in understanding as he places the cup down. “You want to know if love is something you can hold onto.”

“Do you have the answer?” She asks with quiet hope.

“Despite my many years in this world, it is also something I myself keep asking,” he answers honestly. He gives a deep sigh, “But what I can tell you, is that the people who disappear from our lives are never really gone. They live on through stories, through memories, through the love that we have for them.”

Ganyu’s shoulders sink in disappointment.

“We never speak of your father,” Rex Lapis says on behalf of the other adepti, his movements slightly hesitant, “It never felt right of us to talk about a man we barely knew, but your mother loved him dearly. I couldn’t understand it, at the time, offering yourself wholeheartedly to someone who will only live for a fraction of your life, but she was happy. She was so happy, and the time she spent with him graced her skies with stars, and her life with yours.”

She shifts forward at the mention of her father, “But what did she do when he passed?”

He pauses slightly, but still answers, albeit sadly, “She was devastated, of course. The love of her life was ripped so suddenly from her - but she had you to look after. He was never truly gone with his blood running in your veins, and although you can no longer remember her, she would always tell you stories of him with the most awed look in her eyes - as lovestruck as she was when she first met him.”

He smiles in bittersweet fondness at the memory.

“The dead live on through us, and it’s our responsibility to pay them back for all the love we shared,” Rex Lapis places a hand on her shoulder in comfort. “Now drink some more of the qingxin tea before it turns lukewarm. The flowers were always your favourite when you were a child.”

1.3 

Maybe Ganyu is foolish for returning to the tree so soon, but given the young lady’s own father’s involvement in the events of today, she can’t help the worry that eats at her. She props herself up on the same branch from the previous night, waiting for the young lady to appear. She waits and waits, but she doesn’t see the scurrying maids, let alone her destined lover. It’s a bit disheartening to be met with silence, but when she sets her sights to leave, she hears her. 

“Wait!” The young lady yells out from below. She adorns another hanfu, this one a light blue, and Ganyu blushes when she hikes the fabric up to climb the tree.

“Y-you really didn’t have to climb here,” Ganyu stutters as she helps her settle on the branch. “I could have just made my way down.”

“The view is better up here, don’t you think?” The young lady shrugs, cheeks a slight pink from the cold. She straightens out the creases in her clothing, “No need to worry about me being a lady, I’m not one known for tradition.”

Ganyu smiles in amusement, “What do people know you for, then?”

“Well, people know me for my name, my status, my achievements,” she answers simply, confidence exuding from her as she stares at the stars in the sky. She seems different from last night - perhaps her initial shock has been replaced with acceptance. Ganyu’s breath catches in her throat when she looks her way, head tilted slightly to the side, “And what do people know you for?”

“Something similar, I suppose,” Ganyu ponders, trying to stay calm under the weight of the young lady’s gaze. She’s never given it much thought before, but as one of the geo archon’s adepti, her fame has been known in all the towns she’s visited, unchanging of time.

The young lady nods in response, “My father told me about his dealings with the commander.”

Ganyu pauses as she waits for her to continue. She admires her directness.

“Things have been different ever since my mother died, but I never thought… I never thought he’d resort to something like this,” She rubs her head in frustration before releasing a long sigh, “I suppose I’m just glad he turned himself in, and worried on how he’s going to fare in a place so far away.”

Ganyu places a hand on the young lady’s shoulder in reassurance, “He’s going to be alright. Rex Lapis is a just archon, and I’m certain your father’s punishment will be decided upon contextually and righteously. I understand the process may be difficult to trust, and you feel alone, but, well, you have me now. I know we barely met, and it’s asking a lot from you, but trust in me that I will protect you.”

The young lady studies Ganyu’s face for a moment before wondering aloud, “You are too kind.” She leans forward, and Ganyu feels cold seep into her lungs, but she can’t bring herself to mind. There’s a teasing smile on her face, “How will you protect me?”

“Well, I, um-” Ganyu panics.

“But thank you,” her eyes soften, brows creasing in sincerity. She places her own hand over Ganyu’s, “I know meeting your soulmate like this isn’t a common occurrence, but just- thank you.”

❀❀❀

Ganyu returns the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that night, until days and weeks pass by. With her evenings full of warmth despite the chill in the air, her heart welcomes the young lady in, shifting to fit this new piece of herself she’s found.

They talk of the war sometimes - of its toll on Ganyu’s happiness, how her contract of protecting Liyue weighs heavy on her shoulders. She tells of the people she’s met, the soldiers at camp, the former commander. Her life without parents, praising Rex Lapis and his adepti under the glowing moon, singing words of adoration and gratitude for them as the young lady looks on with kind eyes as she whispers under the stars, “They mean a lot to you, don’t they?”

Ganyu pauses. She smiles.

“The world.”

The young lady speaks of herself too, of her childhood, her family. The pendant around her neck was her mother’s lucky charm, and now hers, inseparable from her ever since her mother parted. She remembers laughing as her mother and father danced in the garden, sun beaming down at them. She remembers walking by the waterfall, legs dangling from her father’s shoulders as her mother held her hand. She mentions the not so good memories too - visits from the doctor, the days that turned into weeks that turned into months of wearing white in mourning. The neglect as her father said she reminded him “too much of her”. 

It was during this time that her vision was granted. Her desperation made her do everything she could to make him look at her once more. She trained with his sword for the most part, years of her blood and sweat that ultimately led to nothing. It wasn’t until recently that he once again looked at her as he was threatened by the former commander. 

“His eyes were welled up with tears as he apologised over and over again,” the young lady says with her head resting on Ganyu’s lap, fiddling with her cor lapis pendant. They were by the base of the waterfall, the grass here littered with drops of water splashed from the current. “He went onto his knees at some point, too. I cried as he held me in his arms. All I could think about was how everything I did up until now was to show him what I could do. I was lost, briefly, until I saw a lone qingxin on the ground, so far away from where it should be.” She looks up at Ganyu, smiling softly all the while, “It reminded me of you.”

Ganyu has grown soft.. Or perhaps she was already soft to begin with, just beaten with the responsibility that rests on her shoulders. 

She lets the young lady pull her up from the grass with a huff, blushes when she takes them across the river’s stepping stones, and allows herself to laugh freely in her presence as they stumble over the thin red string, completely forgetting its presence. 

It’s in the small kisses and horse rides, the walks along the stream, and the talks of a future together that she gets lost in an emotion that can only be described as love, drifting away into lands of fantasy. 

It’s here that she forgets the outside world.

It’s here that she forgets the cruelness it operates in.

And it’s here that she forgets what war entails.

1.4 

The clouds blanket the sky today, the air gloomy and cold, but it continues like no other - the rowdiness of soldiers, the tiring training regimes as officers barked out commands. Ganyu follows it all with one thought in mind - seeing the young lady again. Her excitement pushes her through the day, and it overwhelms all her other senses, swallowing the unease in the depths of her stomach whole, as if the emotion was never there to begin with.

She leaves as soon as she is able to, borrowing a horse from the stable as she waves goodbye to her fellow comrades. They still smile and wave back despite the fatigue in their bodies with promises of another hello. 

A light shower of rain trickles down on her way to the estate, dampening her cloak into darker patches of navy. Over the course of the past few weeks, the river had looked nothing short of beautiful under the shining sun, but with no fish dancing and the growing force of the rain against the water, the uneasy feeling finds its way back. 

The rain doesn’t let up when she finally reaches the estate, and it drips down her cheeks when she sees the young lady standing outside with an umbrella, a small smile on her face as she welcomes the adepti. Ganyu mirrors the smile when she leaps down from the horse, giving it a light pat as she ties the rope to the lamp post. 

The young lady beckons them both inside for shelter, a maid giving Ganyu a towel to dry herself off as they make their way into one of the several rooms. There’s an elegant wooden table set next to an open window, and the smell of the rain on the grass outside calms her nerves. They chat over warm pots of qingxin tea as they gaze outside, simply relishing in each other’s presence. 

Ganyu thinks of the future, with the young lady by her side like this, idly drinking tea as they exist, and she can see it. She can see the house they would turn into a home, the plants in the garden they would tend to. She steals a glance at the young lady, from her bright eyes and the person she is, to the fine red that links them together. It fills her with a sense of contentment, but it is ruined when the sky explodes into a bright red, the distant sound of a loud ‘boom’ following closely after.

Ganyu’s face pales as she gets up, the force knocking the chair back in her haste. She sees the young lady flinch out of the corner of her eye, but the burning red signal of an attack plastered across the sky urges her to leave. She leaves the young lady as she runs to her horse, skillfully untying the rope and climbing onto the animal in one swift motion despite the strain in her muscles. 

“I’m coming with you!” The young lady yells as she catches up. 

“No,” Ganyu shakes her head, “You asked how I would be able to protect you before. This is me protecting you.”

The young lady’s eyebrows are forwarded, an obvious sign of displeasure. 

“Stay,” Ganyu caresses her cheek, “Please.”

Her shoulders sink when Ganyu’s eyes don’t waver, and hesitantly nods her head. She removes the pendant from her neck and places it into Ganyu’s hand tightly before giving it a kiss, “Stay alive for me.”

“For you.”

❀❀❀

The rain is near thunderous now, like arrows shooting at Ganyu as she rides against the wind. It roars in her ears, and she has to squint to see through the fog that has blanketed the path. 

She returns to charred tents and dark red. She jumps off the horse and runs to a soldier sitting on the ground, pinned to a post with an arrow through his chest. He’s still alive, groaning weakly for help. It’s the stable boy, face bloodied with an eye missing, and Ganyu tries to keep a clear head when she leans down to ask him what happened, but the boy’s head drops forward in exhaustion. She checks for his pulse, for any sign that he can make, but she’s met with silence.

She was too late.

Ganyu hears the sound of boxes crashing from her side, and she immediately raises her bow and arrow in the direction of the noise before a purple flashes before her eyes, slicing at whatever caused the sound. She’d recognise the move anywhere, and she runs to the young lady who holds her sword at the man’s throat.

“What are you doing here?” Ganyu grips the young lady’s shoulder desperately, still clutching the pendant. “I told you not to come!”

“Not now, love,” the young lady answers with sharp eyes trained on the man. She presses the sword closer to the cowering enemy with distaste as the sound of thunder roars, “He just tried to harm you.”

The man looks between the two of them, and Ganyu sees the fear in his eyes, the desperation. He makes a choking sound, and before either of them can react, he falls to the ground with his eyes rolled to the back of his head, white foam at the corners of his mouth. The fear and desperation in his eyes were long gone now, and all that remained was the empty husk of his body.

Ganyu closes her eyes in a wince before it is replaced with impatience as she turns to the one in purple, “You promised you wouldn’t come-”

“Look, I’m sorry for following you here, but I can protect myself, you of all people should know that,” the young lady asserts. She walks past the adepti, sword in hand as she brushes away a few strands of hair drenched from the rain. She looks back, “I’m here to help, so tell me what I can assist with. I’m not leaving you here alone.”

Ganyu sighs in frustration, but ultimately concedes. She has to act fast. She tells her to search and provide aid for the injured, to be wary of any more attackers, and to stay safe. They prepare to split their ways after Ganyu draws up a map of the camp on the ground, distorted from the rain, but she collapses after the young lady pushes her to the side in haste.

It happens in slow motion, the world turning numb when she looks back at the young lady and sees the arrow go through her chest, the blood splattering onto her cheek. She can’t hear her own voice when she screams, but her throat stings as it is pulled like elastic. All that is present is the weight of her lover in her arms, the blood as it mixes with the mud beneath her, and the sharpness of the rain suffocating her. 

“Is this why you didn’t kill her?” 

“What?” Ganyu looks up at the intruder in shock, blinking away the harshness of the rain as he makes his way through the storm, casually spinning his bow and arrow. She cradles the young lady’s unconscious body closer to her chest, uncaring of the red seeping into her clothes, “Why are you here?”

“Your beloved archon didn’t tell you I escaped?” The commander laughs, swaying from side to side unstably. His clothes hang heavy from the storm, adding to his madness. He raises a wrinkled hand to his face with a crazed look in his eyes, “Seems he thinks you’re just as incompetent as I thought you were! If it hadn’t been for you and your morals and your beliefs, none of this would have happened!” He lifts a pointed finger at her. “This is all your fault!”

Ganyu feels broken, for a brief moment, before a rage she has never felt before takes over. It’s fire burns ice, consuming her whole, and it grows stronger and stronger as she watches him cackle in derangement. All she can feel is the pain in her chest, anger scorching her lungs, and she wants him gone.  

She wants him gone. 

And then the rain freezes. 

She feels a chill run down her spine, and it’s like everything clicks into place when she feels cold metal on her thigh. She glows blue, the hues illuminating the young lady’s face terrifyingly as the frozen rain crystallizes into shards of ice, hailing down as she hunches over with a scream. 

The commander’s laughter slows as he realises what has happened, but he is too late to run away as a shard forms above him, freezing, crushing, and shattering him nearly instantly upon impact. 

The rain of ice disappears, and Ganyu is left in the soft rain, the grey clouds beginning to part.

“Ganyu,” the young lady whispers, taking a sharp breath as her arms reach out to the said adepti, and just like that, she is brought back to her dying lover.

“I’m here,” she holds her closer, her heart collapsing on itself as she feels the coldness of her skin. Her vision blurs as she cradles her destined lover’s body in disbelief. Her heart feels ripped out of her chest, and her throat swells with unshed tears. 

“Ganyu,” the young lady repeats, voice fading as her eyes close. “Ganyu..”

“I’m here.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” Ganyu sobs. She holds the young lady close as the red string fades, until all that’s left is her lover’s empty husk. She brings their foreheads together as her first tears drip down onto their cheeks. “I love you.”