[Just wanted to let you know I haven't given up on the fanfic yet I've been visiting my grandparents in another country, and let's just say their internet is so slow it makes dial-up look like hyperspeed. Even loading a single webpage was a challenge. ]
In a city blanketed by endless snow, a magnificent palace rose like a frozen crown.Within its grand hall stood a throne carved of ice and silver.
Upon that throne sat a woman of striking beauty. Her hair was pure white, cascading like fresh snow under moonlight. Her face was expressionless cold, unyielding, as if carved from the same ice that surrounded her.
This was Snezhnaya.And the woman upon the throne was its ruler Tsaritsa, the God of Love whose heart had grown colder than winter's breath.
She waited in silence, her gaze distant.Waiting for the day her rebellion would begin.Waiting for the day she would take vengeance for the one she had loved and lost.
Today was the same as yesterday for her cold, still, and uneventful.
Usually.
But suddenly, the Tsaritsa's body trembled—only for her to quickly still herself, masking the reaction. Her gaze shifted downward toward the grand hall below.
"I wonder," she said, her voice like frost over glass, "why the two Shades have come to this poor nation of mine?"
A swirling portal opened before the throne, its light casting long shadows on the icy floor. From it stepped two figures—Ronova and Istaroth.
Ronova spoke first, her tone unmoved by the Tsaritsa's sarcasm."We come with a message from the Heavenly Principles surrender… or face destruction."
Before the Tsaritsa could answer, Istaroth stepped forward. Her voice was calm, carrying a faint, almost comforting tone.
"Tsaritsa what happened that day was indeed our fault. For his death and his sacrifice, the Heavenly Principles have decreed this he will reassemble his body. The only thing you must do is return the Gnosis, and accept five hundred years of isolation within your nation."
Istaroth's eyes softened, though her words remained firm."You must also cease sowing chaos in Teyvat. The Fatui have caused great harm to the world, and the one most responsible the one named Dottore must be handed over."
Hearing this, the Tsaritsa's face remained as cold as her heart. There was no anger. No emotion whatsoever.
"Okay," she said, her voice steady and detached. She waved her hand, and seven chess pieces floated toward Istaroth—the Gnosises.
"However," she continued, "where Dottore is, you will need to find him yourselves. I do not know his whereabouts."
Ronova and Istaroth left without another word.
Once they were gone, the Tsaritsa gripped the throne so tightly that the ice handle cracked under her strength. Her anger flared, and her heart grew even colder. A barely audible, almost manic laugh escaped her lips before she forced herself to calm down. With a wave of her hand, the ice throne repaired itself, smooth and pristine once more.
Then, she raised her hand again, and seven floating chess pieces reappeared, resembling the Gnosises.
She had already anticipated the awakening of the Heavenly Principles and the terrible punishment that would come with it. But as she expected, it had not happened.
And even if they were to awaken, if the Principles were merciful, she would be stripped of everything she had. She had prepared for both possibilities. She had recreated the Gnosises, transferring enough power from the originals to sustain her plans. It had been painful to extract such a quantity of energy and store it in new vessels, but what she had given up included only the originals and those with the most power. The remaining force was enough for her schemes.
Furthermore, her Damselette would soon gain power equal to, or even surpassing, the Gnosis.
As for Dottore she had long been disgusted with him, but even more so with herself, for allowing him to do as he pleased. Yet she accepted everything he had done, for she felt no love for anyone or anything. His intelligence was precisely what she needed most and until now, what he had done had been sufficient.
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I just realized how much influence the Fatui have on Teyvat's story and on me as the author. Some of my favorite characters are in the Fatui, like Arlecchino, and the connections between them are terrifying, like Childe's link to Skirk and the Jester, and even other members we haven't seen yet. Because of that, I've decided not to kill them off right away. I want to take things slower.
For example, I won't kill Tartaglia because of his connection to Skirk. However, I am planning to cripple him by that I mean taking away his power. I'll do the same to Skirk later on, because I plan for that to draw out Skirk's master. That's when Phanes can put that guy in his place and give him the ultimate punishment which will be very cruel one hehe.
I'm spoiling this now because in the last chapter I mentioned what would happen to the Fatui, but my thoughts have changed. And honestl I'm too lazy to go back and rewrite everything. 😅