teyvat's crimson shadow

Snow crunched beneath his small boots as he followed Arlecchino's imposing figure through the dense forest. Her crimson eyes glanced back occasionally, as if ensuring he didn't collapse. The boy, barely eight years old, stumbled but kept moving, unwilling to show weakness under her sharp gaze.

They eventually reached a massive iron gate shrouded in mist. Beyond it stood a grand, fortress-like mansion with gothic spires reaching toward the heavens. The House of the Hearth.

"Stay close," Arlecchino commanded, her voice devoid of warmth. The gate creaked open, and they entered.

Inside, dozens of children scurried about, some training in combat, others performing chores. Despite the activity, the atmosphere was heavy. Everyone's movements were precise and deliberate, as though even a minor misstep might draw punishment.

Arlecchino led the boy into a large hall and knelt to his level, her face calm but unreadable. "You are no ordinary child, and this place will not coddle you. Prove your worth, and you will find purpose here. Fail, and you will be forgotten."

The boy swallowed hard, nodding. He had no choice.

"What's your name?" she asked, her tone sharp.

He hesitated. His name... He had one, didn't he? But the memory eluded him, like smoke slipping through his fingers.

"I... I don't know," he admitted.

Arlecchino stared at him for a long moment before standing. "Then you'll earn one. Until then, you're just a stray."

---

Days turned into weeks, and the boy—now referred to only as "Stray"—was thrust into the regimented life of the House of the Hearth. Combat training was relentless, designed to weed out the weak. But despite his small stature, Stray proved surprisingly resilient.

The other orphans were wary of him. Though most had hardened expressions and guarded hearts, they couldn't help but notice something unusual about the newcomer. He wasn't just surviving—he was thriving.

During one grueling sparring session, a burly boy named Ivan towered over Stray, taunting him. "You don't belong here, stray. You're too soft."

Stray said nothing, dodging the punches with surprising agility. Frustrated, Ivan swung harder, his fists brushing mere inches from Stray's face.

And then it happened. A burst of wind erupted from Stray, sending Ivan sprawling to the ground. The hall fell silent as everyone turned to see the aftermath. Stray stood in the center, eyes wide with shock, the air around him swirling with unseen energy.

Arlecchino appeared moments later, her expression as calm and calculating as ever. She walked to Stray, kneeling so their eyes met.

"A Vision," she murmured, inspecting the green gemstone that had materialized at his side. "No... not quite. This power is raw, unrefined. And yet..."

She stood abruptly. "Come with me."

---

In the privacy of her study, Arlecchino questioned Stray. "Do you know what you just did?"

He shook his head. "It... just happened. I don't know how."

Her eyes narrowed, scanning him for any sign of deceit. When she found none, she exhaled quietly. "Whatever this is, it makes you valuable. And that means you will face challenges beyond what the others endure."

Stray nodded, determination shining in his young eyes. "I'll do whatever it takes."

For the first time, a faint smile tugged at Arlecchino's lips. "Good. But know this: the gods have chosen you for a reason. If you wish to survive in this world, you must learn to use their gift wisely—or risk losing everything."

From that day forward, Stray's training intensified. Under Arlecchino's strict guidance, he learned to harness the mysterious Anemo powers that had awakened within him. The swirling winds became an extension of his will, shielding him from harm and striking down his enemies.

But with power came questions—questions that Arlecchino couldn't answer.

---

One night, as Stray lay on his cot, staring at the frost-covered ceiling, a memory surfaced. Not a memory of this life, but of another. A world of towering buildings and glowing screens. A world where he was weak, forgotten, and alone.

And a voice. A soft yet commanding voice that had asked him a question before his arrival here: *"Will you answer Teyvat's call?"*

Stray sat up, his breath visible in the cold air. What did it mean? Why was he here?

Before he could dwell on it further, a soft knock at his door interrupted his thoughts.

"Come in," he said cautiously.

The door creaked open, revealing a small girl with fiery red hair and bright golden eyes. She looked no older than six.

"You're the one with the wind, right?" she asked, her voice small but curious.

Stray nodded. "Yes. And you are?"

"Clara," she said, stepping inside. "Everyone says you're special. Are you really?"

Stray hesitated. "I don't know. Maybe."

Clara tilted her head, studying him with a look far too wise for her age. "Well, I think you are. But special doesn't mean good or bad. It just means different."

Her words lingered as she left, leaving Stray alone with his thoughts.

---

As the months turned into years, Stray—now called Caelum—continued to grow, both in power and in understanding. Arlecchino remained a constant presence, her stern yet protective demeanor shaping him into a warrior.

But beneath it all, Caelum couldn't shake the feeling that his arrival in Teyvat was no accident. There was a purpose to his existence, a destiny yet to be revealed.

And he would stop at nothing to uncover it.

---

The next few years in the House of the Hearth passed in a blur of training, missions, and quiet moments of reflection. Caelum, now a young teenager, had earned a place of respect among the orphans. Though he was still an enigma to many, his strength and unwavering resolve made him a figure to look up to—and sometimes, to fear.

Arlecchino's teachings were as brutal as ever. She demanded perfection, drilling into him the necessity of control, precision, and strategy. Yet, there were fleeting moments of humanity in her, moments where Caelum could see she wasn't just the feared Knave of the Fatui.

One evening, as the two sat in her study after an exhausting mission, she poured herself a glass of Snezhnayan vodka and, surprisingly, poured another for him—though it was filled with water.

"You've grown," she said, her crimson eyes locking onto his. "When I found you, you were a trembling child, barely able to stand. Now, you could probably hold your own against half the recruits in the Fatui."

"I had no choice," Caelum replied, taking a sip of the water. "You made sure of that."

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. "Good. Weakness has no place in this world, especially for someone like you."

He hesitated. "Someone like me?"

Arlecchino leaned back in her chair, studying him. "Do you ever wonder why the gods chose you?"

"All the time," he admitted. "But I don't have answers."

She nodded slowly. "They rarely give answers, only burdens. If the Archons have plans for you, it's best to be ready for anything. You may think the Fatui harsh, but we prepare for the reality of the gods' indifference. Never forget that."

Caelum didn't respond, but her words settled heavily in his mind.

---

One fateful day, Caelum was sent on his first solo mission. It was a relatively simple task: deliver a sealed letter to a Fatui diplomat in Liyue Harbor. But for Caelum, it was more than just a mission—it was his first real chance to see the world beyond the frozen lands of Snezhnaya.

The journey south was long and arduous. As the snow gave way to lush greenery, Caelum found himself marveling at the beauty of the landscape. Teyvat was vast and vibrant, far different from the cold, disciplined world he had known in the House of the Hearth.

When he arrived in Liyue Harbor, the bustling city overwhelmed his senses. The smell of freshly cooked street food, the vibrant colors of lanterns swaying in the breeze, and the chatter of merchants filled the air. For a moment, he felt like a normal boy, lost in the wonder of a world he had only dreamed of.

But his moment of peace was short-lived.

As he approached the diplomat's location, a shadow fell over him. A figure stepped into his path—a tall man with a spear slung across his back and a Vision glowing on his belt.

"Fatui, huh?" the man said, his tone dripping with disdain. "You don't look like much, but I've learned not to underestimate your lot."

Caelum tensed, his hand instinctively moving toward the small blade at his side. "I'm just delivering a message. I don't want trouble."

The man chuckled, his stance relaxed but ready. "Trouble has a way of finding the Fatui. Let's see what you're made of, kid."

Without warning, the man lunged, his spear slicing through the air with deadly precision. Caelum barely dodged, the wind surging around him as he leapt back. His instincts took over, and he released a burst of Anemo energy, sending the man skidding across the ground.

"Not bad," the man said, grinning as he stood. "But you're not walking away that easily."

The fight that followed was intense, each clash of weapons and burst of elemental energy drawing the attention of bystanders. Caelum's training was put to the test, and though he held his own, it became clear that his opponent was far more experienced.

Just as the man's spear grazed Caelum's side, a commanding voice rang out.

"That's enough!"

Both fighters froze as a tall woman with flowing golden hair and piercing eyes stepped forward. She radiated authority, and the crowd parted to let her through.

"Xiao, you're scaring the locals again," the woman said, her tone scolding but lighthearted.

The man, Xiao, lowered his spear with a sigh. "He's Fatui, Lumine. I wasn't going to let him wander around unchecked."

The woman, Lumine, turned her gaze to Caelum, her expression softening slightly. "You're just a boy. What's your name?"

Caelum hesitated. There was something about her presence—familiar and comforting, yet entirely foreign. "Caelum," he said cautiously.

Lumine studied him for a moment before nodding. "You're not like the others, are you?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, his heart pounding.

She smiled faintly. "Just a feeling. Be careful, Caelum. The paths we walk in Teyvat are rarely straightforward."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Caelum to ponder her words.

---

The encounter with Lumine and Xiao left Caelum with more questions than answers. Who was Lumine, and why did she feel so... significant?

When he returned to Snezhnaya and delivered his report to Arlecchino, she listened intently, her expression unreadable.

"You crossed paths with the Traveler," she said finally, a note of intrigue in her voice.

"The Traveler?"

"A figure who has disrupted the plans of gods and mortals alike. If she took an interest in you, Caelum, then your destiny is more tangled than I thought."

Caelum frowned. "What does that mean for me?"

Arlecchino's eyes narrowed. "It means we must tread carefully. The gods are watching, and so is she."

---

The cold winds of Snezhnaya felt sharper than usual as Caelum trudged back to the House of the Hearth. Though his mission to Liyue had been deemed a success, his thoughts lingered on the Traveler and her cryptic words.

Why had she taken notice of him?

He replayed their brief encounter over and over in his mind, searching for meaning. The name "Lumine" felt familiar, though he couldn't place why. It was as though a memory—one he couldn't access—was trying to resurface.

When he returned, the orphanage was quieter than usual. The children whispered amongst themselves, stealing glances at him as he passed. Caelum ignored them, heading straight for Arlecchino's office.

"You're back," she said without looking up from her desk. Her voice, calm and composed, was tinged with curiosity. "What did you learn?"

Caelum recounted the mission, detailing his fight with Xiao and his encounter with Lumine. Arlecchino listened intently, her sharp crimson eyes betraying no emotion.

"So, the Traveler took an interest in you," she said after a long silence. "This complicates things."

"How?" Caelum asked.

Arlecchino stood, pacing slowly. "The Traveler is not just a wanderer. She is an anomaly, an outlander who defies the rules of this world. She has brought chaos to the plans of the Archons—and to ours."

"But why would she care about me?"

"That's what we need to find out," Arlecchino said, her tone decisive. "Until then, you are to remain vigilant. The gods and their chosen do not cross paths with mortals by chance."

---

Caelum took her words to heart, but they only deepened his unease. The days that followed were restless. Training no longer brought him the same clarity it once did, and even his time spent with the other orphans felt strained.

One night, unable to sleep, Caelum wandered outside. The frozen landscape of Snezhnaya stretched out before him, the moon casting a pale glow over the snow-covered ground.

He closed his eyes, reaching out to the wind. His Anemo powers responded instantly, swirling around him in a gentle breeze. The wind was a constant companion, a silent reminder of his unique connection to Teyvat.

"What are you doing out here?" a familiar voice asked.

Caelum turned to see Arlecchino standing a few feet away, her arms crossed.

"Thinking," he admitted.

She approached, her boots crunching in the snow. "You've changed since you returned from Liyue."

"I feel like I'm being pulled in two directions," he said, his voice quiet. "Part of me wants to stay here, with you and the others. But another part of me... feels like I'm meant for something more."

Arlecchino's expression softened ever so slightly. "You're not wrong. You are different, Caelum. Even when I first found you, I knew there was something unusual about you. And now, with your powers and the Traveler's interest... it's clear you're meant for something greater."

"But what if that 'something' takes me away from here?" he asked.

Arlecchino placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then you'll face it head-on, just as I've trained you to. You are my son, Caelum, and no matter where your path leads, you will always have a place here."

Her words, rare in their tenderness, brought a sense of comfort to Caelum. He nodded, his resolve strengthening.

---

The peace didn't last long.

A week later, during a routine training session, the House of the Hearth was attacked. A group of unknown assailants stormed the orphanage, their elemental powers wreaking havoc.

Caelum fought alongside the other orphans, his Anemo abilities cutting through the chaos. The air filled with the sounds of clashing weapons and shouts, but even amidst the chaos, Caelum's mind was sharp.

He caught a glimpse of Arlecchino in the fray, her movements fluid and deadly as she cut down the intruders with ease. Her presence alone seemed to rally the orphans, giving them the strength to push back against their attackers.

As the battle raged on, Caelum faced off against one of the assailants—a Pyro Vision wielder with a wicked grin. The man's flames danced around him, scorching the ground with every step.

"You're just a kid," the man sneered. "Do yourself a favor and run."

Caelum didn't reply. He focused on the wind, letting it guide him. When the man lunged, flames surging toward him, Caelum countered with a powerful gust of air. The force extinguished the flames and sent the man sprawling.

Before the man could recover, Caelum stepped forward, his blade at the ready. "Who sent you?" he demanded.

The man laughed, even as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. "You think the Fatui are untouchable? There are forces in this world that even your Knave can't control."

Before Caelum could press him further, the man's body erupted in flames, reducing him to ash. A self-inflicted Pyro burst, Caelum realized with horror.

The battle ended shortly after, with the remaining assailants retreating into the night. The House of the Hearth was left in ruins, but the orphans—thanks to Arlecchino's leadership—had survived.

Arlecchino approached Caelum, her face grim. "Did you learn anything?"

"They weren't just random attackers," he said. "They knew who we were. And they were willing to die to keep their secrets."

Arlecchino's eyes narrowed. "Then this was a warning."

"A warning from who?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "But whoever they are, they're not finished. We need to be ready."

---

As the House of the Hearth began to rebuild, Caelum couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The attackers' cryptic words echoed in his mind, and he couldn't help but wonder if they were connected to the Traveler—or to the gods themselves.

For the first time, he felt the weight of his existence in Teyvat. He was no longer just an orphan or a stray. He was a pawn in a game far larger than he could comprehend.

But if the gods thought he would bow to their will, they were mistaken.

He would forge his own path, no matter the cost.

---

The days following the attack were tense. The orphans worked tirelessly to repair the House of the Hearth under Arlecchino's watchful eye. Caelum found himself constantly on edge, scanning the shadows for any sign of danger. Though the immediate threat had passed, he knew their enemies would return.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Arlecchino summoned Caelum to her study.

"You've done well," she said, gesturing for him to sit. "But there's more to this attack than we realized."

Caelum settled into the chair, his gaze steady. "What have you learned?"

Arlecchino leaned forward, her crimson eyes sharp. "The group that attacked us called themselves the Obscura Order. They operate in secret, targeting the Fatui and anyone they believe serves the Archons."

"Do they know about me?" Caelum asked, his voice low.

"It's possible," she admitted. "They knew enough to strike at the House of the Hearth. They may see your power as a threat—or an opportunity."

"What do we do now?"

Arlecchino smiled faintly, though there was no warmth in it. "We strike first. I have a mission for you, Caelum. One that will test your loyalty and your resolve."

He nodded, his determination unwavering. "What do you need me to do?"

---

The mission took Caelum to Mondstadt, the City of Freedom. His objective was simple: gather intelligence on the Obscura Order's operations in the region. Arlecchino had provided him with a cover identity as a traveling merchant, complete with a cart of goods to sell.

Mondstadt was unlike anything Caelum had ever seen. The city's towering walls and windmills stood in stark contrast to the frozen plains of Snezhnaya. The people were warm and welcoming, their laughter and music filling the air.

But Caelum didn't allow himself to be distracted. He spent his days observing the city's bustling marketplace, listening for whispers of the Obscura Order. His nights were spent in the shadows, sneaking through alleyways and eavesdropping on conversations.

After several days of careful observation, he overheard a group of men discussing a shipment of rare artifacts.

"The Obscura want this one handled with care," one of them said, his voice low. "They're saying it's from the Old World. Powerful stuff."

Caelum's heart raced. *The Old World?* The term struck a chord deep within him, though he didn't know why.

He followed the men to a small warehouse on the outskirts of the city. From the shadows, he watched as they loaded crates into a covered wagon. One of the crates bore an unfamiliar symbol—a jagged, circular design that seemed to pulse faintly with energy.

Caelum knew he couldn't let the shipment leave without learning more.

---

That night, he infiltrated the warehouse. The interior was dimly lit, the air heavy with the scent of wood and metal. Moving silently, he approached the crate with the strange symbol and pried it open.

Inside was a crystalline orb, its surface swirling with dark energy. As he reached out to touch it, a voice echoed in his mind.

*"Do you seek the truth, child of two worlds?"*

Caelum froze, his hand hovering over the orb. "Who's there?" he whispered.

*"You are a fragment of what was lost, a piece of a puzzle yet to be completed. Take the orb, and your path will become clear."*

The voice was both soothing and commanding, impossible to ignore. Against his better judgment, Caelum wrapped the orb in cloth and tucked it into his satchel.

As he turned to leave, he heard footsteps approaching. A group of guards entered the warehouse, their torches casting long shadows across the walls.

"Who's there?" one of them called, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Caelum took a deep breath, summoning the wind to his side. When the guards spotted him, he unleashed a powerful gust, knocking them off their feet. Before they could recover, he slipped out of the warehouse and disappeared into the night.

---

The next morning, Caelum boarded a caravan heading back to Snezhnaya. The orb in his possession felt heavier than its physical weight, as though it carried a burden far greater than he understood.

When he arrived at the House of the Hearth, Arlecchino was waiting for him.

"You've returned," she said, her expression unreadable. "Did you find anything?"

Caelum hesitated, then produced the orb. "This. The Obscura Order called it something from the Old World. I... I think it spoke to me."

Arlecchino's eyes narrowed as she took the orb, examining it closely. "This energy... it's unlike anything I've seen before. You say it spoke to you?"

"Yes," he said. "It called me a 'child of two worlds.' What does that mean?"

Arlecchino didn't answer immediately. Instead, she placed the orb on her desk and leaned back in her chair. "This changes everything. If the Obscura are dealing with relics like this, then their goals are far more dangerous than we thought."

"What do we do now?" Caelum asked.

"We prepare," Arlecchino said, her voice firm. "The Obscura Order is a threat not just to us, but to all of Teyvat. And if this orb truly chose you, then you may be the key to stopping them."

Caelum nodded, though the weight of her words settled heavily on his shoulders. The winds of fate were shifting once again, and this time, they carried him toward a storm unlike any he had faced before.

---

The House of the Hearth was quieter than usual as Caelum stared at the orb resting on Arlecchino's desk. Its surface pulsed faintly, an eerie rhythm that seemed almost alive. He could still hear its whispered words echoing in his mind, but now they felt less like guidance and more like a temptation.

Arlecchino tapped her fingers against the desk, her eyes fixed on the orb. "Do you know what this is, Caelum?"

"No," he admitted. "Only that it's connected to something powerful. The Obscura were treating it like a treasure."

Arlecchino smirked. "Of course they were. The relics of the Old World are rare and dangerous. They're the kind of power the Archons buried because they feared it might challenge their reign."

Caelum frowned. "And what do we plan to do with it?"

Her smile widened, sharp and cold. "We'll use it. The Fatui exist to reshape the balance of power in Teyvat, to tear down the fragile order the Archons cling to. This orb? It's a weapon. One that could turn the tide in our favor."

Her words unsettled Caelum, but he said nothing. He had been raised to understand the Fatui's goals: the survival and supremacy of Snezhnaya above all else. Still, something about the orb felt... wrong.

Arlecchino seemed to sense his hesitation. She rose from her seat, crossing the room to stand before him. "Do you doubt our cause, Caelum?"

"I don't doubt you," he said quickly.

"But?"

He hesitated, then met her gaze. "What if this power isn't something we can control?"

Arlecchino's expression softened—just slightly. "Control is an illusion, my son. Power is meant to be wielded, no matter the cost. And if you're afraid, that's good. Fear keeps you sharp. But never let it stop you from doing what must be done."

---

That night, Arlecchino tasked Caelum with testing the orb's capabilities. Deep in the frozen wilderness, far from prying eyes, he stood alone with the relic.

The wind howled around him as he unwrapped the orb, its dark energy spilling into the air like smoke. It felt alive, pulsating with a hunger that mirrored his own.

"Show me what you can do," he murmured, holding the orb aloft.

The response was immediate. Shadows burst forth from the orb, coiling around him like serpents. The air grew thick, oppressive, as the energy surged through his body. For a moment, he felt invincible—untouchable.

But then the shadows turned on him. They lashed out, clawing at his skin and dragging him to his knees. Pain wracked his body as the orb's whispers grew louder, more insistent.

*"Submit. Surrender to the void."*

Caelum clenched his teeth, forcing himself to his feet. "No," he growled, his Anemo Vision flaring to life. The wind surged around him, cutting through the shadows like a blade. The orb hissed in defiance, but he held his ground, refusing to let it consume him.

When the energy finally subsided, Caelum was left gasping for air, the orb's faint glow dimmer than before.

---

When he returned to the House of the Hearth, Arlecchino was waiting for him.

"You survived," she said, a note of approval in her voice. "Good. That means it's compatible with you."

Caelum placed the orb on her desk, his hands trembling. "It tried to take control of me."

Arlecchino nodded. "That's the nature of power, Caelum. It demands dominance. And you proved you're strong enough to wield it."

He frowned. "And if I hadn't been?"

"Then you'd have been consumed," she said simply. "Weakness has no place here."

Her words were harsh, but Caelum understood. The Fatui didn't coddle their own. Strength was the only currency that mattered.

"Now," Arlecchino continued, "we need to prepare for the next step. The Obscura Order won't sit idly by while we claim their prize. They'll come for us again—and this time, we'll make an example of them."

---

The opportunity came sooner than expected. A report arrived detailing an Obscura base hidden deep within the Chasm. Arlecchino ordered a preemptive strike, and Caelum was placed at the head of the operation.

As he led a small group of Fatui agents into the Chasm's depths, he couldn't shake the feeling that the orb was watching him, even from the safety of its containment. Its whispers had grown quieter, but they were still there, lingering at the edges of his consciousness.

When they reached the Obscura base, the fight was brutal. The Obscura were prepared, their forces armed with strange artifacts that enhanced their elemental abilities. But the Fatui were relentless, cutting through their defenses with precision.

Caelum moved through the chaos like a storm, his Anemo powers blending seamlessly with his blade. When he reached the center of the base, he found their leader—a tall woman clad in black, her eyes burning with hatred.

"You've made a mistake coming here," she said, summoning a barrier of dark energy.

"That's funny," Caelum replied, stepping forward. "I was about to say the same to you."

The battle that followed was unlike anything he'd experienced. The woman's power was overwhelming, her attacks relentless. But Caelum had something she didn't: the orb.

In a desperate move, he unleashed its power, allowing the shadows to consume his blade. The energy surged through him, amplifying his attacks and breaking through her defenses.

When the fight was over, the woman lay defeated, her body broken and lifeless. The orb's whispers grew louder, triumphant, as if reveling in the destruction.

For the first time, Caelum felt a flicker of doubt. He had won—but at what cost?

---

When he returned to Arlecchino, she greeted him with a rare smile. "You've done well, Caelum. The Obscura will think twice before crossing us again."

But as she reached for the orb, Caelum hesitated.

"Be careful with it," he warned. "It's... dangerous."

Arlecchino's smile widened. "Good. That's exactly what we need."

As she walked away, the orb clutched in her hand, Caelum couldn't shake the feeling that they had unleashed something far darker than they understood.

And deep down, he wondered if he was becoming the very monster he had once feared.

---

The warmth of the hearth flickered faintly as Caelum sat in the common room, sharpening his blade. The quiet murmurs of the younger orphans playing nearby reached his ears, but his focus remained on the steel in his hands. To others, the blade might have seemed like a tool, but to Caelum, it was an extension of himself—a constant reminder of his role in the House of the Hearth.

"Caelum," a soft voice called.

He looked up to see Illia, one of the younger orphans, standing hesitantly in the doorway. She clutched a small, ragged doll to her chest, her wide eyes filled with uncertainty.

"Are you going on another mission?" she asked.

"Maybe," Caelum replied, setting the blade aside. He gestured for her to come closer.

She hesitated for a moment before crossing the room and sitting beside him. "Do you have to go? You just got back."

Caelum sighed, ruffling her hair. "Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to, Illia. But you know why I go, right?"

"To keep us safe?"

"That's right," he said, his voice firm. "You're my family. I'll do whatever it takes to protect you."

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment before she nodded. "Just… come back, okay?"

"I always do," Caelum said with a faint smile.

---

Arlecchino was waiting for him in her office, her usual air of authority palpable as she looked up from her desk.

"The Obscura Order is regrouping," she said without preamble. "Our last strike wasn't enough to cripple them, but it did rattle them. They're hiding something—or someone—in Fontaine."

"And you want me to find out what it is," Caelum said, his tone resigned.

"I trust you, Caelum," Arlecchino said, her sharp gaze softening ever so slightly. "You've proven yourself time and again. This mission is delicate. It requires subtlety and decisiveness—traits you've demonstrated better than anyone else."

Her words warmed something in him, though he didn't show it. For all her coldness, Arlecchino had given him a place to belong. It wasn't perfect, but it was his.

"Fine," he said, rising to his feet. "When do I leave?"

---

Fontaine was a city of opulence, its mechanical marvels and pristine waters a stark contrast to the harsh landscapes of Snezhnaya. Caelum blended into the bustling crowds with practiced ease, his sharp eyes scanning for signs of the Obscura Order.

The mission wasn't glamorous. It involved long hours of surveillance, eavesdropping on conversations, and slipping unnoticed into places he wasn't supposed to be. But Caelum didn't mind. He wasn't interested in glory—only results.

After several days of careful observation, he identified his target: a Fontainian noblewoman named Lysette who seemed to have ties to the Obscura Order. Caelum trailed her to a secluded estate on the outskirts of the city, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

When the moment came, it was swift and brutal. He cornered her in a dimly lit corridor, his blade pressed to her throat before she could call for help.

"Who are you working with?" he demanded, his voice low and menacing.

Lysette's eyes darted around wildly, but there was no escape. "You don't understand," she stammered. "The Obscura—they're trying to stop something worse."

Caelum frowned, his grip tightening. "Worse than what?"

"Than *her,*" Lysette whispered, her voice trembling.

"Her?"

Before she could elaborate, a deafening explosion rocked the estate. The walls shook as flames engulfed the building, and Caelum had no choice but to let Lysette go.

She didn't hesitate, fleeing into the chaos. Caelum cursed under his breath, retreating into the shadows as more explosions echoed through the night.

---

When he returned to Snezhnaya, Arlecchino's expression was unreadable as he recounted what had happened.

"The Obscura are afraid," he said. "They're fighting something—or someone—but they won't say what."

Arlecchino leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. "It doesn't matter. Their fear makes them predictable, and predictability makes them weak. They'll fall, one way or another."

Caelum nodded, though his thoughts were elsewhere.

"Caelum," Arlecchino said, her tone softer. "Are you satisfied here?"

The question caught him off guard. He hesitated before answering. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you've been restless lately," she said. "You do everything I ask without question, but I see the doubt in your eyes."

"I'm not restless," he said, though it felt like a lie. "I just… don't like not knowing where I stand."

"You stand with me," she said, rising from her seat. She placed a hand on his shoulder, her grip firm. "You're my son, Caelum. I raised you to be strong, to survive in a world that would sooner crush you than embrace you. If you're unsure of your place, remember this: you belong to the House of the Hearth. To me."

Her words were a comfort and a warning. Caelum nodded, the weight of her expectations settling heavily on his shoulders.

"I'll remember," he said.

As Arlecchino released him, he couldn't help but wonder if it was enough. He didn't want to be a pawn, but he also couldn't deny the pull of loyalty—and love—that kept him tethered to her.

For now, that was enough.

---

---

The days blurred into weeks after Caelum's return to the House of the Hearth. His mind lingered on Lysette's cryptic warning and the chaos that followed. Yet life in the Fatui's ranks demanded focus, leaving little room for doubt or distractions.

"Caelum, come spar with me," one of the agents called during their training session.

He obliged, stepping onto the practice grounds with a sense of routine. The clash of blades, the whistle of the wind he summoned to propel his strikes—these were familiar comforts. But as his opponent fell back, panting, Caelum found no satisfaction in the victory.

Afterward, he returned to his room, where Illia was waiting.

"You didn't come to dinner," she said, frowning.

"I wasn't hungry," he replied, sitting on the edge of his bed.

Illia crossed her arms. "You're always like this after missions. Quiet. Moody. Why don't you talk to anyone?"

"I talk to you," Caelum pointed out.

"That's not the same," she said. "You always look like you're carrying the weight of the world."

Caelum didn't answer. He didn't know how to explain the growing void inside him—the feeling that no matter what he did, it was never enough.

"You know," Illia continued, her tone softening, "we all love you. Even Arlecchino, in her own scary way. You don't have to carry everything alone."

Caelum glanced at her, surprised by the earnestness in her voice. He managed a small smile. "Thanks, Illia."

"Good," she said, satisfied. "Now come eat before the others finish all the bread."

---

Later that night, Arlecchino summoned him again.

"The Obscura have made a bold move," she said, gesturing to a map spread across her desk. "They've allied themselves with a rogue faction in Liyue. Together, they're planning to disrupt Fatui operations in the region."

"Liyue?" Caelum repeated.

"Yes. This faction has ties to the Qixing, though they're working outside the law. They've been causing trouble for some time, but now they're a direct threat. I need you to eliminate their leader."

Caelum studied the map, noting the marked location deep within the Guili Plains. "Do we know who's in charge?"

"A man named Jiayi. He's a former Fatui operative—one who betrayed us."

"Understood," Caelum said.

---

The journey to Liyue was uneventful, giving Caelum time to reflect. He'd heard of Jiayi before—a skilled strategist who had defected under mysterious circumstances. Though he didn't know the details, he couldn't help but wonder what had driven the man to turn against the Fatui.

When he arrived at the faction's hideout, he found it surprisingly well-defended. Guards patrolled the perimeter, and the air was thick with tension. Caelum waited until nightfall before making his move, slipping past the sentries with practiced ease.

Inside, the hideout was modest—more like a makeshift camp than a stronghold. Jiayi was in the center, surrounded by maps and documents. He was older than Caelum had expected, his face lined with years of hardship.

"You're here to kill me, aren't you?" Jiayi said without looking up.

Caelum froze, his hand on his blade. "You don't seem surprised."

"I knew the Fatui would send someone eventually," Jiayi said, turning to face him. "Tell me, boy, do you even know why you're doing this?"

Caelum frowned. "Because you're a threat."

Jiayi chuckled bitterly. "A threat to what? The Fatui's stranglehold on Teyvat? Do you even understand the kind of organization you serve?"

Caelum's grip tightened. "I don't need to understand. The House of the Hearth is my family. I do what's necessary to protect them."

"Family," Jiayi repeated, his voice laced with scorn. "And what will you do when they decide *you're* no longer necessary? When the very people you protect turn on you?"

The question struck a nerve, but Caelum didn't let it show. "That's not going to happen."

"Isn't it?" Jiayi stepped closer, his gaze piercing. "You're young. Loyal. But loyalty means nothing to people like Arlecchino. You're just another pawn in her game."

Caelum drew his blade. "Enough."

Jiayi sighed. "Fine. Do what you came to do. But remember this: the Fatui don't love you. They don't care about you. And one day, you'll see that for yourself."

Caelum hesitated for a fraction of a second—just long enough for Jiayi to make his move. The older man lunged forward, a hidden dagger in his hand.

The fight was swift and brutal, and in the end, Caelum stood victorious, his blade stained with blood. Jiayi collapsed to the ground, his breathing shallow.

"Even now," Jiayi said weakly, "you don't see it, do you? The truth about who you are… about what they've made you."

Caelum said nothing as the light faded from Jiayi's eyes.

---

When he returned to the House of the Hearth, Arlecchino greeted him with her usual calm demeanor.

"Was the mission successful?" she asked.

"Yes," Caelum said, handing her Jiayi's insignia as proof.

"Good." Arlecchino examined the insignia before placing it on her desk. "You've done well, Caelum. You've proven your loyalty once again."

But her praise felt hollow. Jiayi's words lingered in his mind, sowing seeds of doubt he couldn't ignore.

Later, as he sat alone in his room, Illia's voice echoed in his memory. *We all love you.*

For now, that was enough to silence the doubts. But in the quiet moments, when no one was watching, Caelum couldn't shake the feeling that Jiayi had been right.