The interior of the Cathedral was a large sea of silence, save for the rhythmic flickering of candles. Noxira lay on the infirmary bed, her white dress usually so pristine stained with the dust of the Favonius Headquarters. The silver cracks along her collarbone had stopped glowing, now resembling delicate, crystalline scars etched into her skin.
Paimon was curled up on a nearby stool, her head nodding as she struggled to stay awake.
Lumine sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes fixed on the silver tinted Windwheel Aster petal resting in the vial on the nightstand.
A floorboard creaked in the shadows behind a massive marble pillar. Lumine didn't jump, she simply exhaled, her hand moving away from the blade leaning against the bedpost.
>>"I know that scent of cold iron and dandelions, you're working late, Rosaria."<<
Lumine said softly, not turning around.
The sister stepped into the moonlight, her greyish purple hair casting a sharp shadow. She didn't have her polearm drawn but her presence was as heavy as a bared blade.
>>"The Acting Grand Master put the city on high alert and closed the gates, In my line of work, that usually means a mess needs cleaning"<<
Rosaria murmured and her eyes narrowing as she looked at Noxira in the bed.
>>"I assume this is the anomaly everyone is whispering about? The mess that supposedly rewrote a Herald's memory?"<<
>>"She saved us, Rosaria"<<
Lumine said and her voice firm but lacking the hostility.
>>"She isn't a weapon. She's... she's hurt."<<
Rosaria walked closer, her heels clicking with a lethal precision. She leaned over Noxira, inspecting the silver marks with a scholars focus and a hunter's suspicion.
>>"She looks like she's shattering, Traveler. Not like a person but more like an overfilled vessel, Teyvat has a way of rejecting things that don't belong."<<
Paimon jolted awake at the sound of Rosaria's voice, nearly falling off her stool.
>>"Wha...!? Rosaria! You gotta stop doing that spooky shadow teleport thing! Paimon's heart can't take it! Since when are you here!"<<
>>"If your heart can't take a shadow, you've picked the wrong traveling companion"<< Rosaria countered dryly and smiled slightly amused.
Noxira's hand twitched and her eyes fluttered slowly open no longer glowing with the cold violet light as before but wide and misted with pain.
She looked up at the vaulted ceiling, then her gaze drifted to the two women.
>>"Lumine...?"<<
Her voice was a fragile rasp, a ghost of its former regal authority. She reached out, her fingers brushing Lumine's hand with a touch as cold as ice.
>>"The... the fire is gone but everything feels so... loud. I can hear the memories of the stones in the walls."<<
Lumine squeezed her hand and her expression softening into one of deep care.
>>"It's okay. The battle is over. You're in the Cathedral, take it slowly."<<
Noxira turned her head toward Rosaria, she looked at the sister with a profound, quiet sadness, she read her like Keaya.
>>"You smell like... the night... and bitter wine that's..."<<
Noxira whispered and stopped for second, a tired, genuine smile touching her lips and she continued slowly.
>>"That's a lonely smell, like a story that was torn out of a book so no one could read the ending..."<<
The silence that followed was deafening and Rosaria stiffened, her eyes widening behind her cowl. For a brief second, the dangerous Sister of the Church looked exposed hit by a truth she hadn't prepared for.
>>"She's a chatterbox"<<
Rosaria finally muttered, though her voice had lost its edge. She stepped back into the darkness and doesn't turn around.
>>"Listen, Traveler. The Church likes its miracles predictable, If she keeps looking at people like that, she's going to find secrets that were meant to stay buried."<<
Rosaria paused at the edge of the light, glancing back at Lumine.
>>"Keep her safe and especially keep her quiet. I'd hate to have to deal with a miracle that knows and talks too much."<<
With a faint swirl of frost, she was gone.
Paimon shivered, hovering closer to Lumine. >>"Brrr. Even for Rosaria, that was extra creepy. But... Noxira are you okay? You gave us a real scare back there!"<<
Noxira closed her eyes, leaning her head against Lumine's shoulder and smiled.
>>"I am... Fine I guess but the Archive is different now. The red flower... it turned silver. Is that... is that what a miracle feels like, Lumine?"<<
Lumine looked at the silver petal in the jar, then back at the girl in her arms.
>>"I think so, Noxira. I think so."<<
After Rosaria vanished, the silence of the Cathedral felt different less like peace and more like a held breath.
Lumine helped Noxira lay back down, tucking the thin blanket around her and Paimon had finally curled up on the edge of the bed, her small snores filling the quiet air.
>>"Lumine..."<<
Noxira whispered, her eyes fixed on the moonlit stained glass.
>>"That woman... her shadow didn't match her heart It was heavier, you understand what I try to say?"<<
>>"Rosaria has a difficult past, Noxira"<< Lumine explained softly and continued.
>>"She does what she has to, so others don't have to see the darkness. Just... Just do me the favor and don't try to read her too deeply next time. She values her privacy more than everything in her life."<<
Noxira nodded slowly, the silver cracks on her neck flickering one last time before going dark.
>>"I understand. Privacy is the Memory soul. I will respect her lock and hold my curiosity back."<<
Rosaria's Perspective
The Angel's Share was unusually quiet for a post lockdown night. Rosaria sat at her usual corner table, a glass of dandelion wine untouched in front of her. Usually, the bitter sting of the alcohol helped drown out the day's annoyances but tonight, Noxira's voice was stuck in her head like a splinter.
>>"A story that was torn out of a book so no one could read the ending."<<
Rosaria stared at the condensation on her glass. She had been called many things. A monster, a cold blooded killer, a lazy sister but... lonely? No one was brave or stupid enough to say that to her face.
>>"You're quieter than usual"<<
Diluc remarked from behind the bar, wiping a glass and continued.
>>"Did the lockdown give you more work than you expected?"<<
>>"Just dealing with a miracle that doesn't know when to shut up"<<
Rosaria muttered, finally taking a sip It tasted flatter than usual. She looked at her own shadow against the tavern wall, Noxira was right it was heavy. It was a shadow stained by the blood of the mountain bandits who raised her and the secrets she kept for a city that didn't truly know her.
She stood up abruptly, put a few Mora on the table.
>>"I'm going on patrol, someone needs to make sure that anomaly doesn't accidentally reveal the wrong secret to the wrong person and a this miracle needs a lesson."<<
Diluc watched her leave, his eyes narrowing. He knew that look. Rosaria wasn't hunting a threat tonight, she was guarding.
Noxira's Morning Walk
The next morning, Mondstadt felt different to Noxira. The silver cracks on her skin had faded into thin, shimmering lines that looked more like decorative tattoos than wounds. Against Lumine's protests, she had insisted on walking through the city.
>>"Paimon thinks we should at least get some Fisherman's Toast first!"<<
Paimon complained, floating lazily beside them and continued with complaining.
>>"Noxira needs energy if she's gonna be a Memory Guardian all day! Paimon's stomach is already archiving its own emptiness!"<<
Noxira smiled, her azure eye taking in the bustling marketplace.
>>"Everything is so... vibrant. The surrounding here is warm."<<
As they crossed the plaza near the fountain, Noxira stopped, she felt a familiar chill a sharp, Cryo scented breeze that didn't match the morning sun.
She turned her head by the first look nothing, then she looked around in the next shadow again nothing and then she turn back toward the shadows of the alchemy station and then there... leaning against a crate with a look of feigned boredom, was Rosaria. She wasn't wearing her habit, she looked like a common traveler but her gaze was locked on Noxira.
Lumine stepped forward, cautious.
>>"Rosaria? You're awake and on patrol? Or did you just wake up? Or forgot something?"<<
>>"Sleep is for the innocent and I've never been accused of that"<<
Rosaria said, stepping out of the shade and she walked straight up to Noxira, stopping just outside her personal space.
>>"You look better now... Less like shattering glass."<<
Noxira looked into Rosaria's eyes and for the first time, she didn't try to read her Memorys. She just looked at her as a person and respect her privacy.
>>"I kept your lock, Rosaria. I didn't look at the ending of the story and I don't look in your memorys I respect your privacy and I notice you don't smell like bitter wine anymore and more like frozen dew"<<
Rosaria's expression softened for a microsecond a flicker of something that might have been gratitude before her cynical mask returned.
>>"Good. Keep it that way. If you're going to wander the city, try not to look so... shiny. You're attracting attention. Not that I care."<<
She reached out and adjusted the hood of Noxira's cloak, her cold fingers briefly brushing against the silver cracks on Noxira's neck and a small spark of silver and frost danced between them.
>>"I'm going now, I have things to do"<<
Stated Rosaria and she turned on her heel.
>>"If you get lost, look for a shadow. I'll probably be in it."<<
As they wanted to past the Alchemy station Lumina saw Albedo and approached the alchemy station, Albedo didn't offer a grand greeting. He simply stopped his work, his gaze settling on the silver lines tracing Noxira's neck and for a moment, his eyes lost their calm, replaced by a sharp, piercing intensity.
Lumine noticed his stillness and tilted her head slightly.
>>"Albedo? Is something wrong?"<<
The alchemist didn't answer immediately, he scanned the surrounding plaza and the flower girl Flora, the guards at the gate, the citizens chatting by the fountain. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, barely audible murmur that only the three of them could hear.
>>"Traveler... where did you find this girl?"<<
>>"She's the Memory Guardian, her name is Noxira. What's wrong Albedo ?"<<
Lumine whispered back, sensing the shift in his mood but didn't understand and continued
>>"She helped us at the Headquarters."<<
Albedo looked at Noxira's azure eyes, then at the silver cracks, he didn't touch her, he didn't even need to. He recognized the rhythm of her existence a rhythm that matched the silent pulse in his own veins.
>>"Noxira..."<<
Albedo said softly, testing the name on his tongue and he looked back at his crafting bench, his hands moving to pack away his tools with sudden, quiet urgency.
>>"The marketplace is too... loud for the questions I have and the air here is far too thin for the answers you might need."<<
He looked at Lumine with a look of heavy, unspoken warning.
>>"The Acting Grand Master trusts you and I trust her but some miracles are best discussed where the wind cannot carry the words to the wrong ears."<<
He turned his gaze back to Noxira and for the briefest second, a flicker of something... perhaps recognition... perhaps sorrow crossed his face.
>>"You and I... we share a certain signature, don't we? A scent of chalk and ancient dust that the people of this city wouldn't understand."<<
Noxira tilted her head, her voice equally quiet but she understands.
>>"The woman with the cold hands... she told me I had a brother who was like a painting. You feel like that painting, Albedo a perfect painting but you feel... finished and I still feel like a sketch."<<
Albedo's hand tightened on a glass vial, he didn't even need to mention her by name. He didn't have to.
>>"A painting can be burned, Noxira... Or worse but a sketch can be rewritten. Both are fragile in the end."<<
He stood up straight, his professional mask sliding back into place as a group of Knights walked past.
>>"Come to my camp on Dragonspine when the sun begins to set, the cold there... it helps stabilize things that are shattering. I believe we have much to discuss regarding our shared heritage."<<
He glanced toward the shadows and his eyes narrow slightly but he looked again an the three and nodded before he leave.