"What's your name?"
"Rostam. And you, my lady?"
Kiyono suddenly felt the world spinning. His soul seemed to be torn apart, heavy and powerless. All sorts of memories flooded into his mind. The scene before his eyes shattered and reformed, like pieces of broken glass stuck together. The voice by his ear grew more and more muffled.
A burning valley, a maddened demon dragon, monsters filling the sky, blood... and a crying girl.
She wept in despair and agony, seeming to repeat something over and over. Kiyono couldn't hear clearly. Glistening tears flowed down the girl's cheeks, dripping onto Kiyono's face—the girl's tears were about to run dry.
Regret, regret.
Despair, despair.
Even the wind was weeping.
"What's your name?"
"What's your name?"
"What's your name?"
His mind was continuously eroded by the surging memories.
"Ro...s..."
"Ro..."
"What... is my name?"
[Kiyono Fugin! Kiyono Fugin! Kiyono Fugin!]
[Wake up! You're lost!]
[You've fallen too deep this time!]
He fell from the wooden plank. Seawater flooded his nostrils as he sank bit by bit.
The system's warning resounded deep in his soul. The scene before him rapidly faded away, the flood of memories receding like the tide. Kiyono abruptly opened his eyes.
He was greeted by the dazzling and fierce sunlight from the sea. The sunlight was diluted by the sea's surface, only a faint ambiguous glow of red fragments falling, and beyond that, pitch darkness under the waves.
His body was numb and powerless.
Kiyono struggled, wanting to swim up, but found that even a simple action like lifting his arm was difficult.
Breathing grew more and more laborious.
He really messed up this time.
Truly courting death.
Kiyono let out a light tsk.
He had been so engrossed in practicing his swordsmanship that he forgot the time. Once one lingered too long in past memories, they would get lost in the past.
The soul of a mortal was simply too fragile, unable to withstand the erosion of lengthy memories.
And "erosion", even for gods, was a cruel and fatal thing.
Fortunately, the system intervened early and cut away the recalled memories again.
About to suffocate...
He opened his eyes slightly and reached towards the water's surface with all his might. Grabbing the wooden plank floating on the water, he shifted his body's center over and rested his head on the plank, his lungs desperately breathing.
"Huff... huff..."
The twilight had completely faded, the sun fully set. When he entered the memory, the sun was still high. So much time had already passed.
At the edge of his vision, Kiyono saw a ship.
--
That night. The drowsy snowy night covered everything. A candle still burned in the lowest ship cabin. The narrow cabin was filled with the heavy aroma of malt liquor. Sailors loved drinking this kind of low-proof alcohol. One, it could ward off the cold. Two, it had no bacteria.
The ship's drinking water, especially what the sailors drank, would grow a thin layer of green algae due to the long voyage. Drinking it would make one sick.
"You're awake? Lad."
McCajub took a drag on his pipe. He was the helmsman of this ship and had been in this line of work for twenty years. At first, he ran some ordinary trade in Snezhnaya. Later, he followed the government, specializing in doing work for the officials.
The official he served on this voyage was no minor figure: the Eighth of the Harbingers, Lady Signora. She occupied the ship's most luxurious cabin and traveled with a retinue of Fatui envoys. McCa was not even important enough to meet them face to face.
Kiyono opened his eyes with some difficulty, coughing several times in a row.
He found himself leaning on a dilapidated bed, but his hands were locked in chains.
Although he could break these chains with one yank.
"Don't be nervous... we didn't mean to lock you up," McCa explained. "The guests on this ship are too noble. You're also of unknown origin, lad. It's better to lock you."
"Honestly, when we stopped the ship to rescue you, we took a big risk..."
The boy before him looked at most sixteen or seventeen years old. When McCa discovered him, he was weakly lying on a wooden plank, barely breathing.
"Where is this?" Kiyono asked.
"This is a Snezhnayan envoy ship." Uncle McCa handed a mug of malt liquor to Kiyono. "Want a drink? It can keep out the cold."
"No."
Kiyono shook his head. "I don't want to turn into an old man who loves smoking and drinking."
"It'll shorten my life."
"Wow. What you said really hurts," McCa obviously didn't catch Kiyono's implication. He scratched his head. "Anyway, come up with me first, okay?"
"To do what?"
"The Fatui lords want to meet you... uh, well, interrogate you."
He hesitated for a bit, glancing around, lowering his voice:
"If you really are a spy, lad..." McCa showed a sympathetic gaze.
"Lady Signora will burn you alive."
Climbing the cabin stairs, Kiyono learned that the sailors—even the first mate—lived in the lower hold. The Fatui officials occupied the second deck, while the esteemed Harbinger "La Signora" had the uppermost cabin.
With each reincarnation, all memories would be lost, but basic common sense about this world would remain.
For example, the names of various nations and their respective highest administrative organizations.
The Fatui was the official organization of Snezhnaya, headed by eleven Fatui Harbingers. Each Harbinger received the grace of the Tsaritsa and enjoyed powerful authority.
La Signora was the eighth seat among these eleven Harbingers, known for her ruthless methods.
Kiyono was rather confused at the moment.
His identity was, to put it mildly, far from clean.
At worst, he might be an Inazuman agent sent to Mondstadt. Even in the most charitable reading, he was a young man of unknown origin, with no past and no proof of who he was—suspicious by any measure.
Given the Harbingers' methods, it would hardly be surprising if they set him on fire or tossed him into the sea.