Chapter Text
Every person in Teyvat is born with a name on their wrist. On the rare occasions that there’s none, it simply means that their soulmate hasn’t been born.
A lone puppet was created with a small branch from Irminsul. Following it’s creation, it had been given the electro gnosis, it’s heart and purpose. Alas, the emotional burden was too heavy and the puppet could not withstand the gnosis, resulting in his tears.
With its cries, it’s creator deemed him incapable of housing the gnosis. The lone puppet was sent to sleep for eternity inside Shakkei Pavillion.
The puppet woke up, innocent and oblivious. The villagers found him and cared for the little one, teaching him the ways of the world. Their daily lives were enjoyable, making the puppet forget its abandonment.
Everyone adored the puppet, Kabukimono, him. For the first time in his short life, he felt like he belonged. Everyday he’d learn new things with the villagers, from cooking to blacksmithing.
Ever so curious, he finally asked about the text in everyone’s wrist. The elders fondly laughed, the children giggled yet no one answered his question. Kabukimono turned to Niwa, “Why is everyone laughing, Niwa-sama?”
Niwa froze for a second before smiling fondly at him. “You see this, Kabukimono?” the man asked as he points to his bared wrists, “this is the name of my soulmate.” Niwa explained.
Kabukimono tilted his head. “Soulmate?”
The man smiled kindly and began his explanation, “Everyone in Teyvat is born with a soulmate. The names written on our wrists are proof of that!”
The puppet began removing a part of his clothes, baring his unblemished wrists to the world. “What does this mean, Niwa-sama? My wrists are empty, does that mean I have no soulmate?”
Niwa cheekily laughed and ruffled the puppet’s hair. “Silly, Kabukimono! It just means your soulmate hasn’t been born yet!” The puppet looked hesitant, unsure if he should believe the man. “Don’t worry, little one! With face fairer than any other and eyes brighter than amethysts, everyone would fall on their heads begging for your attention! So don’t be disheartened, okay? We’ll be here with you until you meet your soulmate!”
Lies. Niwa died. Everyone died.
Life goes on.
Kabukimono continued his adventure, walking around, finding new plants, discovering new places. Amidst his journey, he met a young boy. A boy with heart as pure as snow, a heart so kind.
Somehow, the two ended up living together. Kabukimono cooked for him, took care of him, and even gave him a doll that resembles Kabukimono.
The puppet went out to gather firewood to heat their abode. Kabukimono didn’t notice the passage of time and when he went back, he found the child crying. “Why are you crying, little one?” He asked.
The boy raised his head and met his gaze. “N-nothing!”
Kabukimono tilted his head. “Don’t cry, I’m here for you, always.” The puppet comforted.
Hearing this, the young boy cried even more. “P-please don’t leave me! I don’t want to be alone!”
Kabukimono laughed and hugged the crying boy. “Don’t worry, I’ll always be with you.”
The boy sniffed and smiled. “I promise I’ll never leave you alone too, mister!” Even with snot and tears running down the boy’s face, Kabukimono felt warmth engulf his being.
“Even if you meet your soulmate?” Kabukimono teased.
“Never!”
Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. The boy died. He betrayed me. He broke his promise.
Since everyone left me, I’ll leave everyone too.
A puppet is not human, it has no emotions. A puppet will never be human, that’s why it has no soulmate. The tears running down it’s face is proof that it is a defected product.
With the house burning down in flames, it rested its back against door. With the fellow doll in its hand, it waited for the fire to consume him.
Alas, the puppet did not die. His skin did not burn. He wandered Inazuma, promising to get his revenge against those who’ve betrayed him. So if he killed a few blacksmiths? Who were they to get on his way. Kabukimono is but a mere doll, but Kunikuzushi will blaze hellfire in Inazuma. A nation that forsake him deserves to be removed from Teyvat.
A doctor found him during his idle days. The details don’t matter. He was found by Il Dottore, a fatui harbinger. The doctor gave him purpose, promised to make him a god.
With nothing left to do in his dull life, he joined the fatui. Keeping everything covered, especially his wrist.
In a blink of an eye, he rose ranks. From a foot soldier to one of Tsaritsa’s finest warriors, a harbinger. The Balladeer, Scaramouche, that’s who he is now.
Even though it’s been years since he last saw his wrists, Scaramouche kept it covered. Gods don’t have soulmates after all, so what’s the use of hoping to see a black ink on his wrist?
Being a harbinger was exciting, was. Once again, he found himself bored. He couldn’t become a god yet, he still doesn’t have the gnosis in his palms. It’s all just a waiting game. His soldiers got used to his standards and they’ve become competent.
Truly a pity that he can’t electrocute anyone anymore. What a shame.
On one of his trips to the abyss, he saw a boy. A tiny ginger kid with terror written all over his body. Interesting. His body began to itch, starting from his wrists to up to his head. He grinned. The balladeer watched as the boy fainted, and a woman saved him.
The concept of time did not exist inside the abyss. Done with his mission, Scaramouche stayed for a while, watching the two unfortunate fools who fell inside the abyss. He smiled with glee seeing them struggle but ultimately beat the lectors.
Scaramouche can see that the woman was tired, and the boy even more so. He could let them die now, or he could save them, and maybe watch their slow demise the next time he comes back to the abyss.
With a hum, he killed the abyssal creatures behind their backs, leaving only a few for the woman to handle.
They were certainly interesting. Scaramouche can only quell his bloodthirsty nature by bringing down Inazuma but seeing others struggle might just satisfy him, for now at least.
Once back in Teyvat, the balladeer removed his clothes to wash off the blood. He stilled. An inky text can be seen in his wrists. How long has it been there? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care. That pesky thing will only die and leave him, or maybe it was another joke Celestia threw at him. None of it matters, Ajax, or whoever it is will only get in the way of godhood. Eventually he forgot about the terrified boy who fell and died inside the abyss.
Some more years passed, he was tasked to supervise the recruitment process. How boring. Despite his reluctancy, he had to do it. He can’t disobey the Tsaritsa just yet. He still needs that woman to achieve his goal.
On his way to the training grounds, a hand was
placed on his shoulder. With no patience left to spare, he grabbed his dagger and aimed it at the owner of the hand’s neck. His catalyst wasn’t even needed. “You dare touch me!?”
The man, laughed heartily, but his lifeless eyes had a glint to them. Interesting. Pathetic fool with no fear, or is it just arrogance? Truly interesting. “Comrade, relax! I’m a recruit too!” The ginger said.
“Are you blind or just stupid?” Scaramouche started. “I’m not like you, pathetic vermin. I’m number 6 of the Fatui Harbingers, the Balladeer.” He introduced with disgust.
The teen laughed again. “Sorry, comrade! With your height-“
Scaramouche didn’t even let the teen finish his statement. He nicked the ginger’s neck before he could continue. “Finish that sentence and see where your head falls.”
The teen grinned, summoning an invisible blade to press in the harbinger’s throat. Scaramouche was impressed. The boy did not
back away despite hearing his title, he even used his hydro vision to try and harm him. Interesting. Instead of healing, the boy managed to create an invisible blade with offensive power.
Scaramouche quirked his lips upwards in amusement. He can see the teen’s future. With dead enemies around him, not knowing what killed them. “You’re good, kid. Try not to die during the recruitment process.” The teen’s eyes glinted again. “Don’t disappoint me.” With that, Scaramouche backed away and continued his leisurely pace to the training grounds.
He could hear the teen shout some words. Possibly a name, an answer to a question he never asked. He didn’t care enough to listen, but at least there’s one recruit with potential. Stupidity or arrogance? What does that boy have?
Before he could reach the grounds, another hand stopped him, but this time he knew who it belonged to. “Jester, a pleasure to see you.” He sarcastically stated while removing the hand.
Pierro merely raised his brows before taking his hands. “Balladeer, it seems like you’re needed back in the abyss.”
Scaramouche’s face almost twitched in annoyance. “As you can see, Jester, the Tsaritsa ordered me to supervise the new recruits.”
The Jester smirked, expecting that answer. “Oh, believe me, this is Tsaritsa’s orders too.” He proclaimed while showing Scaramouche the official letter ordering his return to the abyss. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle the recruits.”
With a roll of his eyes, Scaramouche went to his quarters to prepare. Suddenly, The Balladeer remembered the terrified boy inside the abyss, who bore a resemblance to the teen he met earlier. Maybe the kid’s still alive and fighting if he’s anything like his brother. After all, it’s impossible to escape the abyss for insignificant mortals.
Scaramouche hummed, excited to see the chaos and bloodshed awaiting in the abyss. Hopefully, the kid is still alive.
Ajax was born with multiple faded inks on his wrists. His family always eyed it, but said nothing. Everything changed when he fell into the abyss.
He lost his childhood, his innocence, and worst of all, his family. It wasn’t anything drastic like throwing him out or anything, but they were oddly distant from him.
The older siblings he looked up to, looked at him with discomfort. His parents looked at him with pity and concealed anger. Only Teucer, Tonia, and Anton, remained. They didn’t treat him differently, because they don’t even recall who Ajax was before the fall.
He heard them whispering behind his back. “Look at his wrists! Look at his eyes! His soulmates are dead, dying, or gone! His eyes are lifeless! Are we even sure that’s our son!? The abyss could have replicated Ajax!”
His mother sniffled, and so did Ajax. “Honey, that’s our son.” His mother wept. “No matter how unfortunate he is, that’s our son,” a pause for a hiccup, “my son.”
The days seemed endless, his newfound thirst for bloodshed couldn’t be quelled, and so did his family’s estranged relationship with him. When Pulcinella handpicked him to join the fatui, he packed his bags and left. It’s better this way.
On the first day of recruitment, he saw a short boy with a perpetual frown on his face. He approached the short teen hoping to befriend a peer, only to have a dagger pointed at him. Ajax’s body began to itch.
With a laugh, he let go of the angry stranger. Said stranger introduced himself as the Balladeer, a harbinger, his superior. How very interesting. With a temper this short, how would he react? “Sorry, comrade! With your height-“
The Balladeer nicked his neck, a drop of blood flowing down. Ajax grinned imaging how their impromptu fight would go as he raised his hydro blades.
His superior smirked, and Ajax felt himself addicted. Adrenaline starting to flow through his veins. Just as he was about to press deep, the Balladeer let go. “You’re good, kid. Try not to die during the recruitment process.” Hm, it seems like we won’t fight this time. “Don’t disappoint me.”
Ajax felt a sense of pride envelop him. He definitely wants to see this guy fight. As the Balladeer walked away, Ajax introduced himself. “I’m Ajax! Don’t forget me!”