Chapter Text
He does not remember when the voices fall silent.
It happens gradually, almost as if the sound of flowing water drowns out their words entirely, obscuring the burden in his heart with a sweeping wave that scatters and breaks over a shallow shore.
When he opens his eyes, he is seated atop a large boulder that faces the vast, twilight sea.
Resting atop its rough surface, he nearly misses the sensation of small bits of rock getting trapped against his skin, of pink, peach coloured flesh that pushes off of the rock as he walks amongst the gravel and pebble littered shore. It is such a large departure from the rotting carapace that clings to his hands, of gauntlets and armour that had long since fused to his flesh, and he listens to the sole sound of the waves washing through the cracks of the gravel and stones beneath his feet.
It is night, he supposes, in this strange dream.
How long had it been since he had dreamt?
As he closes his palms, curling his fingers against calloused flesh, unravelling and opening up his hands once more, he savours every last sensation.
Looking towards the horizon, he sees the strange celestial object that hangs in the sky, a distorted star cleaved apart to reveal a perfect halo, its edges outlined in the lingering starlight.
It gazes at him with a tempered voracity, awaiting the day it would wade through the waters and surrender himself to its depths.
As Thrain watches the waves foam at his feet, he closes his eyes and lets out a long, content exhale.
-
The steady rise and fall of his senior's chest means he has succeeded.
As Childe pulls his hand back from where he had rested it on the other's shoulder, he allows his satisfaction to slip through in a contented huff, reflecting on what the success of his most recent attempt meant.
It had become increasingly easy to consume that which belonged to others. Ever since he'd consumed Beisht and the Abyssal corrosion that permeated her, consuming Chuychu's fatal injuries, something akin to what the Captain wanted, was an easy feat. Still, as he reflects on the metallic, almost aged bitter taste of what he had consumed from the Captain, it was far easier to swallow than the Abyss was.
Was this a way of saying that he was becoming more proficient at consuming?
As he lays back in the other chair in the Captain's tent, he decides it wouldn’t hurt to rest or meditate here a little whilst keeping an eye on his senior's condition.
So far, he'd figured out that desire and ambition made for one part of the authority he possessed. However, if that was enough, then it should have allowed him to consume the Abyss. Furthermore, he could still feel the remnants of Beisht within him even now. Almost like…a type of indigestion?
Consumption did not equate to digestion.
So then, what did he have to do to ensure the things he consumed would be fully “digested”?
Take Chuychu's injuries for example, or perhaps, what he had done to the Captain. The process had taken him less time than he had expected, despite the difference in severity as well.
This was something he needed to learn more about. It was proof that he still did not fully understand the depths of the Narwhal's power, or more accurately, what it meant to walk the path of Voracity.
His first conclusion had been simple. When he had first trod upon that Path what felt like an eternity ago, the core idea to embody then was that of greed. The inability to be satiated. To strive for more, more than what he had then. He wanted to remain himself and yet wield the power of Voracity all at once, without losing anything or trading away parts of himself.
However, each Path had its nuances within its primum mobile.
He scrolls through his phone, glancing over messages regarding the countless questions he had concerning his Path, finally answered when the Astral Express was able to receive his messages and queries. Welt had informed him of the concept of a Path's primum mobile, and the ways that it could manifest in various, possibly twisted manners.
Closing his eyes, he leans back in the makeshift bed-seat combination in the Captain's office.
He might as well get some sleep while he could-
The scent of something foreign reaches him.
Childe opens his eyes, calling forth a blade as he points it at the creature that had made its way into the tent.
It was…a cat? A cat with a rather strange colouration of fur, something cut between obsidian touched with streaks of gold, and was that…a monocle over its left eye?
Childe stares hard at the texture of what appeared to be an extremely strange cat, one that seems to frown and tsk at the way he had drawn his weapon. "Has anyone ever taught you some manners, child? It does not do good to draw your weapon so quickly."
The cat spoke.
"Hm, it seems that the knight is asleep for now. We can converse in peace, then."
The cat spoke once more, as it casually cleaned its ear with a paw, ignoring the fact that the tip of his blade was still pointed at it. Childe has far too many questions, and no answers in sight. However, it did not seem capable of harm, nor did it seem intent on hurting either him or the Captain.
He has to admit, he was extremely curious about what was happening to him. He already spoke to a paper doll back in Inzauma, and with everything that happened outside of Teyvat, something like this shouldn't even faze him.
"Forgive me for my wariness, but converse? What in Teyvat even are you?"
The cat puffs its chest out upon hearing his question. "A messenger on behalf of my master. She has a desire to converse with you, given your rather unique circumstances."
"First of all, what's your name, and what's the name of your master?"
"You may call me Sebas. Before I reveal my name, I would like to receive an introduction from you, as well as have the weapon pointed against me withdrawn."
Childe acquiesced, allowing his blade to collapse away as he stares hard at the talking cat. "Who would have a message for Tartaglia, the Eleventh Harbinger?" He keeps his voice low but clear, to avoid disturbing his senior who was resting just a few metres away.
"Hm, I suppose that will have to suffice for confirmation. I have a message for you, to deliver on Master Rhinedottir's behalf. Perhaps it would be best spoken outside this tent."
…Who the heck was Rhinedottir?
Still, he can sense that this cat is nothing like a normal cat. If it was able to sneak deep into a Fatui camp without detection, speak as if it had its own intelligence, then it could easily be a powerful entity in disguise as a creature. At first, he’d believed it some Abyssal entity that had snuck its way in, but upon closer examination, it bore no traces of Abyssal energy.
Instead, its scent was of something alchemical, artificial, as if it had been grown in one of Dottore's labs.
Nodding and gesturing at the exit to the tent, the cat, Sebas, struts out of the camp with him following behind.
A suitable distance away from the tent, Sebas settles down by the warmth of the campfire that had been put out, with not even the residual heat of the fire from before remaining.
"It appears that you may not be aware of Master Rhinedottir's existence. That is a pity, but ultimately of no concern. I shall recite the message she has instructed for me to pass on to you. Its contents are all I am allowed to inform you of, though she has already phrased it with adequate context."
Straight to the point, huh?
The ginger does his best to not give in to that moment of disbelief, especially when a woman's voice begins emanating from the cat.
"This is only a rather cursory introduction, given how things are progressing in Natlan, so I shall keep this message brief. You are not aware of who I am, and my title is irrelevant in your current position."
He finds himself squinting at the cat, making a mental note to ask the traveller about who this Rhinedottir was — out of everyone he knew, Aether or Paimon had the highest chance of knowing.
"I have a vested interest in the man known as the First of the Fatui Harbingers, or by his old name and title, Thrain, the Sentinel Knight."
This person knew the Captain?
"However, he may not think so highly of me, so do refrain from informing him about this encounter. To not heed this word of advice may have him reject your efforts to aid him in defying his fate."
Was she threatening him? With the Captain's life? Childe's brow furrows, as he weighs the words being exchanged with him.
"I have a proposal for you, the one who has tread past the boundaries of this world. Should you seek to defy the fate inscribed on Thrain, then I shall assist you in doing so. Accept the chalice Sebas will hand over to you, and converse with me there."
How did she know about the Captain's fate? And why was she offering to help him?
The cat, Sebas, reaches over into the fur beneath its belly, and dipping its head within to fish out what seemed to be a drinking chalice. pushing it over with a single paw as it looks at him.
"...About time, that thing was heavy to carry around! But anything for Master Rhinedottir, I suppose."
Wait, was that all the information he was going to get? The entire interaction felt really suspicious, from how this Rhinedottir individual knew about the Captain's impending fate to how she seemed to want to intervene. And why offer him, of all people, assistance?
He reaches for the chalice, still hesitant but deciding that there was no harm in holding on to it for the time being.
"How exactly am I supposed to use this?"
The cat shoots him a look that makes him question his own intelligence.
"It's a chalice, you drink from it." Seriously? How was that enough information?
Childe squints at the cat. "...More details please? Like, will this transport me to some other location, is there time dilation involved in meeting your Master, will I fall asleep during this process or get knocked out?"
"Oh no, no, none of that sort. Such an inconvenience would reflect badly on our hospitality. Master Rhinedottir will meet you in the reflection that lies in the bottom of the chalice, and your exchange will barely cause a second to pass in reality. I hope that satisfies your concerns?"
"Who is this Rhinedottir?"
"I've been informed that your master, the one by the name of Skirk, should know who my master is. Or at least, she knows her in passing. You could spend more time digging around for information on my master, but you don't have much time to begin with. Either trust my master and agree to meet with her, or choose not to do so."
The cat stands up, arching its back in a stretch.
"I have places to be. Goodbye, Tartaglia. Or Childe, or whichever title and name you've chosen to have for now."
Sebas is gone before he can so much as open his mouth to ask another question.
Looking down at the chalice in his hand, he studies its shape, the helical carvings lined in gold and sapphire. He peers into its glass and finds within a crimson liquid two shades lighter than that of blood.
Just how exactly was he supposed to explain any of this to anyone?
-
One of the agents informed him of two guests that had come to the Fatui camp looking for him.
Childe yawns, rubbing at his eyes as he walks over to where his two guests were — he'd thought they would be Aether and Paimon.
Instead, Chasca and Chuychu sat at one of the makeshift tables, the younger sister waving a hand at him as Chasca dips the tip of her hat in greeting.
"So, you've finally gotten some time to chat with us?" Chuychu playfully teases, and Childe remembers that he had indeed not spoken to them since the invasion ended.
“My bad,” he apologises, scratching his head, “things were busy over on the Fatui's end, and a few personal developments came up for me." He joins them both by the table, two Mirror Maidens bringing the group refreshments. The sight of food was a pleasant one — he could always trust them to make things hospitable for guests.
That, as well as the fact that he was starving.
"I see, it must have been hard for you to find some free time as well. Aether informed me that you were going to follow him and Mavuika into the Night Kingdom, so you have a lot on your plate right now," Chasca hums. She looks much healthier now than when she had claimed her Ancient Name, as did Chuychu, who looked energised despite the amount of work that must have been cut out for the two of them.
"Indeed! I suppose word spreads fast around here. We'll be heading off at… late noon?" He casts a glance over at the Captain's tent — that sounds about right.
Chuychu smiles, "then let us make this a quick courtesy call, and celebrate again once we've emerged triumphant against the Abyss." She meets his eyes, extending a hand to him.
Within her palm is what seems to be a small jar decorated with string and fabric, the shape reminiscent of a hot air balloon, with the addition of a few decorative colours and pieces from the Flower Feather Clan.
"We wanted to thank you for saving my life, and for helping out our clan during the invasion. Since we're currently rebuilding and recovering from the invasion, we don't have much to spare for now. Please accept this jar of Sing Your Heart out candies. It's a local delicacy or herbal remedy for your throat, but it serves as a really nice candy to snack on."
Childe is pleasantly surprised. He has received more gifts now than he ever has in his younger years in the Fatui.
"When our clan is up and running again, we'll invite you over for a feast," Chasca gives him a smile, as her gaze seems to contain an anticipatory amusement.
"Well now, I can't possibly say no, can I?" Childe accepts the gift with his two hands. He had to admit, the two sisters had grown on him a lot since his first day here in Natlan. Plus, it helped to bring back a sense of normalcy from whatever the talking cat had been, as well as the fact that he was going to be marching off to a battle soon enough.