Chapter Text
“Wake up, Fischl.”
A gloved hand held the young girl’s shoulder gently. Her body swayed and shook, and she eventually opened her eyes to see a sight familiar to her. Bennett was there, waking her up with his hand on her shoulder. She was laying down in a shack, the smell of old, wet wood and a raw, fresh, almost sickeningly potent seabreeze flowing through the cracks in the flimsy walls.
“I’m making some breakfast for us. You wanna come watch me cook?”
She stayed silent, tiredly looking up at the boy’s face. He seemed happy enough, the adventurous glint in his grass-green eyes as prominent as ever. Her silence spoke for itself as her sullen gaze stared ahead of her. Bennett, noticing her lack of a response, broke away from his smile. “Something wrong?”
Her stomach grumbled.
“Sounds like you need some breakfast. Wait here, alright?”
Bennett left the open, doorless shack with a skip in his step. Some residual sand from the beach around them kicked up from his shoes, fluttering onto the shack’s dirty floor.
Fischl felt as if every muscle in her body was failing her. It took every meager drop of energy within her just to sit up on the makeshift bed she was sleeping in. The sun peeked through the dilapidated roof, giving her a nasty surprise as she sat up in the perfect position for the sunlight to direct itself into her pupils. It seemed like even the world itself was trying to attack her today.
“Prinzessin.” A familiar voice said.
She blinked, not looking in any particular direction.
“It seems that fate decrees this day to be quite unlucky for you. I suggest you exercise caution.” The voice sounded like it was whispering into both of her ears simultaneously.
She nodded. Fischl had heard the same thing every morning for a while now.
The voice said no more, leaving Fischl to stare at the openings in the shack.
Bennett eventually returned. “Here you are. Breakfast in bed!” He said, kneeling down and handing a meal kit’s plate to her. “Just what we need while we’re on vacation, right?”
Fischl didn’t reply. Her stomach grumbled again, and she reached for the fork before eating a few nibbles of the steak Bennett had made. It didn’t taste like anything, but it was filling.
“Well? How is it?”
She nodded solemnly, continuing to bite off little pieces of the meat.
Bennett scratched his head sheepishly. “Hehe, yeah… I’m not the best cook, but I’m glad you enjoy it. I’m getting better, though!” His smile was back.
He wasn’t getting better. Fischl had eaten the same thing for the past week, from morning until night. Every meal was a seared slab of meat. If she was lucky, she’d find a little variety in whatever fish Bennett had been able to catch that day, or maybe a few eggs every once in a while.
“So… Are you having fun?”
Fischl shook her head. Bennett frowned. “Maybe we could try something fun today. We could try going swimming in the sun. It’s a nice day out. You could even help me catch some fish!”
Fischl kept her eyes looking downward at her plate. She continued to nibble at the meat. It felt like it was getting more rotten and putrid with every bite she took, but she continued anyway.
Bennett sat in a more comfortable position on the floor. “Is something wrong?”
After a few seconds, she set her plate down on her lap.
“Alas, Oz has informed me of the harmful omens sealed within this day.” She started, her vibrant voice in stark contrast to her mood. Slowly, though, her eyes began to fade in emotion. Her voice matched her eyes, as if her personality was shutting down along with her body.
“I… I don’t want to go anywhere.”
Bennett frowned again, but quickly put on a face. It was oddly similar to the smile he had on earlier. “Aw, come on… Where is he? I wanna speak with him. Maybe he just hasn’t seen how great the weather is today.”
Fischl weakly held her hand out. In a puff of purple smoke and feathers, a ghostly raven appeared, perched on her wrist. “I wish not to speak with him, Prinzessin. He will lead you down a disastrous path.”
“He treats me well and feeds me, Oz. Please show respect.”
Bennett looked at her arm, and then back to her.
“That’s him?”
Fischl nodded.
“Well, Oz…” He started, thinking of the words to say. “It’s a nice day out. Perfect for adventuring. Maybe you could join us.”
“I’m well aware of the weather, young man, and yet my omens are always correct despite the sun’s vibrance. Don’t try and tempt the Prinzessin into following you towards ruin.” The bird replied.
Bennett looked at Fischl’s wrist again, and then back to her. While she looked at her wrist, he noticed that her face was shy and tired, more than usual. “It doesn’t look like he wants to talk to me right now.” He began. He looked as puzzled as ever, still trying to find the right things to say.
“I’m sorry, Bennett. Oz is very protective of me.”
He closed his eyes and sighed before opening them again. “I understand. He wants you to be safe, just like I do. I just wish that he’d let you have a little bit of fun.”
Oz scoffed dismissively before dissipating back into a puff of smoke and feathers. Fischl put her hand back down at her side, dropping it onto the makeshift bed as if the simple act of raising her hand was enough to fatigue her.
“If you aren't in the mood for adventuring, then I’m going to go looking for food again. Who knows? I might find some delicious berries this time.”
“I do want to go.” Fischl weakly let out. She felt as if the very blood in her veins panicked as she said that, the pressure underneath her skin rising. “But… Oz said I needed to be safe. I can’t go. I need to stay. You heard him, right?”
Bennett sighed again before standing up.
“Yes, I heard him.” He reassured. “Promise me you’ll be safe, okay?”
“Oz will watch over me.”
Bennett forced a smile. “Of course he will.”
Time passed. Bennett left every morning and came back every afternoon with whatever he found that day. Fischl was unsure if it was several days or several weeks that had passed at this point.
Even with the shack wide open, Fischl couldn’t bring herself to do anything but sit on her bedroll and listen to the distant waves crash into the shore. Occasionally, she would eat whatever Bennett gave her. Other times, she’d listen to Oz’s warnings.
“The weather is becoming colder, mein Fräulein. This calls for a renewed plan of action.” Oz would whisper. “Fate has brought the boy a rare streak of good luck, but he will certainly still lead you to pain and suffering. You must find an escape. You must leave this place. You must go before it is too late, before the snowfall renders you frozen in this hell.”
And so, as Bennett was out hunting one day, Fischl decided to stand up beside her bed.
She chose to remember something. It was a gruesome memory.
Mondstadt, at night, with blood on the stone path beneath her. Two bodies on the ground, not much older than she was. Someone grabbed her hand and pulled her away. Bennett. Yelling, chasing, escaping. They ran, and ran, and ran even more.
Fischl looked down at her hands, her eyes widening as if they were stained with blood. She slowly let them drop down at her side, letting the imagined blood drip from her fingertips onto the floor beneath her.
For the first time in months, Fischl stepped outside of the shack.