Archive of Our Own

Companions.

Flins took them as dear people who accompanied his mundane days. Dwelling with humanity was something he found exhilarating. He moved to one from another, humored by their life, and in exchange of his affection they would give him their stories.

In a few years, he already had a few human lovers. Their separation varied; one wanted a more secured relationship with another human, while some his other relationships were short-lived due to their different nature and way of living. But one stood out the most, to the point Flins was in a relationship with the mortal until he succumbed to the limited time that humans had.

Flins sat silently next to that worn out bed, watching the man's slow and quiet breath. That human lover was a dear, humble commoner. In a few moments, the Lantern Fae knew that his human beloved would be gone.

"Look to the north, I will come back," he whispered and closed his eyes without any intention to wake up anymore.

For the first time in the cabin that didn't match his extravagant noble looks, Flins experienced grief. Flins mourned for his passing, realizing how fragile one human's life was.

Ever since, he waited and clung to a silly hope that he himself didn't know it would happen or not. Years passed and none came from 'the north'— wasn't he already in the north kingdom? Flins laughed at himself, for someone who wielded more power than an ordinary human, apparently he yearned to believe his lover's last words, wishing it would come true.

How foolish, and Flins walked toward the court, silently stopped to ask for a miracle and paid attention more to the glam and luxury of a noble fae. These noble customs were another type of battlefield, full of backstabbing people with their own agenda. Flins was heading to the battle of pleasantries, he had more important matters to attend.

Discarding the thought for another year, Flins didn't expect to run into someone who shared a similar look with the love of his heart. A man appeared one day in the plain snowfield, hair golden and shiny, playing with the wolves around.

Enchanted, Flins approached the guy. This was a rare sight, how could there be wolves around here? Closer and closer but then, he stopped walking upon one realization. Flins looked at their position, so funny that they were on the north side of Snezhnograd. Was the world playing with his poor heart?

Yet the man over there, charmingly took Flins' attention for just being with his wolves. Animals usually avoided him due to his nature and Flins didn't want to interrupt that man's playing time but oh how much Flins wanted to get closer.

"Hello? Sir?" Instead, it was the man who found him first, his wolves were waiting from behind. "Are you alright?"

At that point, he knew the soul of the promise came to fulfill the promise. "Are … you ... really come from the north?" He whispered to the thin air before finally reaching that man, forced a smile, and properly answered him.

"It's alright. However, I am more concerned with you, Sir. Soon there will be a blizzard coming, and you are here playing with the wolves."

The man grinned, emitting similar energy to the ray of sunshine, contrasting the freezing cold bite around them. "These wolves are my friends, we will soon take shelter. Do not worry, Lord …"

"—Flins."

"Ah yes, Lord Flins. We are okay here and thank you for the concern," he ended it with another chuckle. Warm, friendly, and charming. Flins was swooned inside. The urge to invite the man to his place was so high but he couldn't be sure that it was someone whom he had been waiting for. He needed to talk with him first.

Hence, Flins could only offer an invitation sprinkled with his usual politeness. "My pleasure. I am interested in the wolves accompanying you, how about we share some conversation in the nearby tavern?"

Flins and that man hit off together quite easily. Conversation about wolves was the beginning, occasional meetings in the tavern turned into a regular one, doubt over their social status gradually forgotten and left by the time where it was only the two of them, eroded by the amount of their meetings.

"You know what, strangely enough I grow more comfortable with you easier than I do with the others." That man joked that one time they had dinner together. The food was humble, but Flins enjoyed every bit of it despite not being too fond of human meals.

"You look like the tiny hope I always want to see where I'm lost in a cave. I feel safe with you."

And that was how Flins got a new human lover after his previous lover died with a promise. It was delightful, it was awesome. Flins loved him in and out, his perfection and his imperfection. Never did the man try to take advantage of this noble status although Flins would love to shower him with extra affection.

He stayed during the icy winter and cool summer. Together making a quiet tale on the edge of Snezhnograd. Flins witnessed the man's life grow from loneliness to a warm passing to the Ley Line.

Flins was there until the end of the lifespan of that mortal. Fascinatingly, that man also said the same one last thing.

"Kyryll … my soul … the North ..."

Was it a prayer or was it a curse?

The only thing Flins was sure of, it was such an interesting way to show connection, wasn't it?

From his previous experience, Flins only needed to wait a few years for his love to come back from the North. Waiting was fine and time was a fleeting thing to him. Yet, every single year passed without a single potential. It was pretty discouraging.

Events followed up were even painful, catastrophic even. His life was void of warmth, the court became more unsettling as the time went by. The reincarnated soul didn't come for another decade.

The White Emperor fell, the blue flame replaced by the red. Abyssal disaster engulfing the land, came to eat anything on its path. Flins walked following a railroad to the promised elysium—a complete wasteland, filled with filth. He fought until his fire was not enough to contain him anymore.

He was exhausted. He did not belong to this era anymore.

Where are you, love?

And he kept walking, down to the south, far from the north.

Hope was the only thing that drove him moving. Yet Flins also began losing his hope. Perhaps, the previous one was only a coincidence.

Maybe … he was too foolish to believe such thing with only one coincidental happening.

Under the snowfall as it was calling him to go back to the capital, he ignored everything. Couldn't bear to witness the change and grief, the Fae put an end to his tale, slumbering to eternity under a gravestone.

Unknown to the slumbering legend, one man with hair as bright as the sunshine and irises as blue as the bright sky, went to the wasteland-turned-port city decades after the abyssal disaster. His home village in Snezhnaya was nothing compared to this city.

The first time he saw the city, astonishment never left his body. Ocean of people, tons of machinery. With this amount of resources and away from home, would this city fulfill the strange emptiness in his heart?

He didn't even know what he really wanted. Mora? Lover? He could only guess.

The man began building his life. Meeting new people every single day, making connections to this bustling city. Growing older, he found a life, a good one if people could comment. Finding a mortal purpose, gathering fortune, building a family even. His wife was an amazing lady and his children were his pride.

Strangely enough, it still didn't cover the huge hole in his heart. He loved his wife and children, they were the joy of his heart but it wasn't enough. There was an odd yearning to look for something, or someone?

"I don't understand," he confessed to his wife once. "I keep feeling I am missing out on something that I will regret if I don't find it. How is that not cruel, Dear? I have you, I have the kids, and I keep wanting for something I don't know."

Maturely responding to her husband's predicament, she could only offer her shoulder to lean on. "Here here, you have me. We will go through this together." Giving him the support that he needed, embracing him in her hug.

Life passed with the man finding no answers. At least, he lived happily, purposely. His business expanded, and the well-being of his family was guaranteed. Despite all the weird pang in his heart, he was able to help everyone around him.

That night, the farewell was murmured on the worn out bed. He remembered his hometown—the place he had not visited for ages after going to Nod-Krai. The snow blanket, cool northern air, the railways … ah, he missed them all.

"The ... north ..." mumbled that frail old body before succumbing to the end of his time among the cries of his wife, children, and grandchildren.

There was a certain period of calmness. Flins was still asleep, thinking himself was already at the later stage of life—finding eternal peace. The place he had chosen was truly a quiet one, giving him the best experience of slumber.

However, things were different in many parts of the continent. There was this man, a dazzling person like he was born by the flame. His existence is like the force of the gale, sweeping the abyssal monster without mercy. He fought for his clan and nation, fought the abyss alongside their Pyro Archon.

A lot of loses and wins he experienced. Resurrected by the sacred fire from the Night Kingdom was not something foreign for him. Still, he always had this weird feeling, attached to the imaginary snowy plain in his head.

Natlan never snowed, the fire would burn the cold away. He wanted to take a step away, but his nation needed him, his tribe needed him, his family was always in the constant danger of the abyss.

In the end, he chose to stay while yearning to see the northern kingdom on his death bed.

On the other side of the continent, time passed. An outstanding engineer among his age found himself busy in the Research Institute. The gardemek robot before him stood still, but broken. A hole as big as a watermelon was fresh on its middle part.

"Who's on Teyvat doing this to this poor robot," he sighed. This robot was beyond help at this point. He had to report the case to Maison Gestion later, considering this broken automaton was found around the way to the Palais Mermonia, it could be one of the government's possessions and someone was vandalizing it.

He cleaned his hand from the oil residue and all, deciding the robot should be sent back to the Fortress of Meropide for reconstruction of its body. Finishing his report, he called it a day and walked to his home in the city.

So easy, his work never bothered him too much. Every problem had its own solution—that was what he believed. Only if the emptiness in his heart could be solved by bolt, oil, or even a report like this robot.

Some more time passed and this interesting thing happened to a newly graduated student from Akademiya. Sumeru was a good place to study, but he desired freedom. As free as the wind, he began his lone journey.

The first destination was the land of the eternity, hoping the diversity of culture and land would inspire him something. Inazuma was pretty, he spent quite some time there after finally deciding to continue his journey.

He visited the land of contract, but being a merchant was not his expertise. Liyue offered a lot of job opportunities due to its similar nature with other port cities, so he had quite a life there without being a merchant. He taught youngsters some fighting tricks in his spare time.

It was an eventful life, helping people left and right. Still, he yearned to find something. Everything was not enough but his body was growing older and older.

The man stood before the community board, there was a map of the neighboring nation. Another last push felt, and in his old age, he decided to do another walk. The nation was closer this time, he only needed a short ride to the place.

Setting foot in the land of wine and song, he decided to end his journey there.

—Present Time

Closing the door of his Lighthouse, Flins the Ratnik swiftly navigates himself in the not too spacious room. This is his life now, blending better with humanity. He has woken up nearly a decade ago when he couldn't deny a call priced by blood.

The first human he got closer to is the current Starshyna of the Lightkeeper faction as Nikita was the person who helped him to go back to the community. And more, this faction is fascinating, he remembered he once saw the founder of Lightkeeper among the nobles of Belyi Tsar's court. So interesting, they carried the idea that Solovei's saw, the same even in this current era.

Flins felt a connection, like from his era and current new generation era. This faction … serves like a link. To the home that he had lost, to the newer roof that embraces him closer. Flins never feels this much comfort compared to those periods of change and disaster happening every single day.

And so that, despite him hating these piles of paperwork on his desk, he would slowly but certainly complete them.

One report done, two reports done, and Flins is sensing his freedom soon from these papers until he hears ruckus from the outside.

Peeking through the gap of his door, he sees someone—tall, blonde, and loud. There are few monsters loitering around this place often, and wow … They come back after he cleared them a few hours ago.

But Flins pays no mind to his new addition of workload, his attention is full on this person outside. How is someone strong enough to wield two freaking longswords? Fighting like he is dancing with it? To put it simply, Flins is astonished.

Truly Nod-Krai, the land of mysteries and how it never stops surprising him every single day.

The monsters are cleared—a benefit to Flins, now that his new workload has been done by this blond guy for free. The same person who is now is walking to his lighthouse. Interesting, it seems like he needs a favor. It seems like the help is not free at all.

Flins is amused. He waits until the knocks come and yes, the guy knocks. Wasting no time to leave the man outside, Flins opens the door, greeting this guest with a face adorned with made-up fatigue. How will the response be? Flins is curious.

"Hello, is there anything I could help you with?"

The guest scratches the back of his head, eyes glancing to the side left and right—looking like someone who is trying to make an excuse. Yet Flins doesn't feel any malice from this person, he patiently waits for his answer.

"Uh ... sorry to disturb your rest. But please help me." A very straightforward and clear request, but it sends Flins into a little confusion.

What help? Someone this caliber of fighting asking for his help?

"I am a tourist from Mondstadt, our camp was swept by the storm so ... uh—could you lend us some supplies?" So, that is the reason. Possibly he cleared the monsters outside as payment for this request.

Oh, sure. A tourist from the city of wind. Flins gently laughs. Truth to be told, this person doesn't look like a tourist at all. However, Flins knows that many kinds of people pass through this land. He could be a tourist and someone with a personal agenda at the same time.

"Please wait a second," and there he goes. Illuga just sent him a new batch of supplies a few days ago, mostly rations that he doesn't really like chewing. He takes a small portion of the jerky and biscuit to throw into his flame later and gives the rest to this poor tourist. There are some unused piles of blankets, a bit dusty, and Flins also lends them all to him.

"Thank you. I will repay them later!" The tourist leaves hurriedly, seemingly in a rush to go back to his group.

Flins watches as the man rowing a boat to a nearby island near Paha Island, a bit too far from Piramida.

One thing Flins notices from this encounter, the guy is smart enough to choose visiting this lighthouse than the Fatui base over there. Clearly this tourist has his own "common sense" then, because no ordinary person would choose to come to this cemetery unless they know one or two things.

He wonders, will there be any other chance to meet again?

The next time he meets that man from Mondstadt again, he is drinking in the Flagship. He can see some other people in uniform and armors in the back, having this foreign symbol on their breastplate.

Tourist, huh?

"Grandmaster! Please join us over here!" a half-drunk member of the team approaches that man, addressing him in clearly not 'an ordinary' way and Flins grins. That guy hid his identity when introduced himself back then, but here he isn't even trying to hide himself.

"I'm fine," he sends his subordinate back to the already drunk group of people. "But don't forget to stay within limitation!!"

They are already dead drunk there, Flins bets that they couldn't even see the blurred line between drinking in moderation or sending themselves into a sea of vomit in the morning. Flins subtly hopes that they will not go into the later stage even though Mondstadter are famous for their drinking habit.

Flins doesn't sit that far, he can see the detail of the backside of this Grandmaster's cloak quite easily. The fur on his coat looks fluffy, there is a dangling chain or accessory that carries a small gem—oh Flins is now curious. The man dresses neatly and quite properly for the cold air in Nod-Krai.

"You keep staring, I can't focus on my drink." Suddenly the man speaks, much to Flins' surprise.

The surprise doesn't last long as Flins is now smiling behind his wine glass. "I apologize for disturbing the deserved fun night for a tiring traveler—or a tiring tourist." He gracefully teases the man, reminding them of their first encounter that night.

The blond head finally faces him, moving from his chair and bringing his drink to Flins' table. "I am indeed a tired traveler, HAHAHA!" His laugh fills the room but strangely enough, it's not annoying.

Seeing each other's face and eyes, a good impression is made. "I also apologize for disturbing you that night. We just arrived in Nod-Krai, I haven't got many clues of how the faction works here. So you met that lame introduction—but those supplies, they helped us a lot. Thank you. We—I will repay you soon."

Understandable. He can't blame this foreigner for being wary in this place, not even people stayed in Nod-Krai long enough to trust each other. "No need to be sorry about it, you did what needed to be here. Maybe, I would do the same thing if I were you," not quite sure, Flins isn't fond of lying but he knows how to speak in half-truth.

"Alright then. But let me introduce myself in the proper way. I am Varka, the Knight of Boreas. We are on a mission from Mondstadt." That man, Varka, smiles from ear to ear, proud to bear the name of his hometown on his back, carrying the title like it's the source of his power.

But, Flins' attention falls to one word.

Boreas.

"Knight of Boreas?" he questions, a strange pull suddenly appears in his chest. The word is familiar, similar to those words murmured by the fae nobles in the Tsar's court. Similar to a name where his race origin and destruction are recorded in the library of the Frostmoon Scions.

"Ah, that's my title. Mondstadt is protected by our Four Winds. I'm honored enough to represent one of it, like you know—being the representative of the Wolf of the North's side, the North Wind, to put it simply."

The north wind.

Flins knows his past yearning is quite foolish, he has long enough forgotten the taste of it. However, one single word from someone who doesn't even come from the North nearly makes him fall into the trap again.

Stupid. Silly. Foolish. Absurd. There's no guarantee a promise from an ordinary human to carry out for centuries like this. And this is just wishful thinking, he doesn't even know he will meet this Knight again in the future.

"Interesting." Flins gives a short response before sipping his wine again, anchoring himself to the present and the reality. "I suppose there's the East Wind, South Wind, and the West Wind then?" he continues in a lighthearted manner.

Varka laughs after chugging his drink which Flins is sure has no trace of alcohol inside it. He couldn't smell the distinct fragrance of the substance there. Quite considerate for someone who seems to love drinking, staying sober when everyone else is wasted on the table and the floor.

"You could say it like that I guess?? Hahahahah!" another train of laughter despite Flins finding there's nothing to laugh at. Perhaps this person loves laughing. It does give positive energy after all.

Their conversation stays longer than the two expected, refilling their drink and continuing their topic into another one. His suspicion regarding Varka's drink is correct though, that is just apple cider. Adding another list of good impressions he has toward the guy.

"So you work with the Lightkeeper, I heard about them a few times already. Something something about you guys are short-staffed."

Flins' turns to let out a gentle laugh, reminiscing Nikita's worries about the safety of their comrades. "The threat of the Wild Hunt. I assume you have met them if you have already stayed in Nod-Krai for more than a day. The faction has been fighting them for centuries bravely. Not many people want to volunteer themselves to such a brutal mission."

Whenever he has the chance, Flins never forget to appreciate the strength of his fellow Lightkeepers. They are people who carry the light of hope in this Paradise, enlighten the foggy path where enemies could ambush you. It seems Varka also appreciates the idea as he nods enthusiastically.

A fellow fighter will understand, Flins knows. The conversation continues for another hour, exchanging brief information about each other, sealing the newly found friendship shared between drinks.

Flins, strangely, feels so happy that night.

Lightning and thunder are loud from the outside. Flins is grateful that he reaches his lighthouse earlier than he planned before due to the immense feeling that it’s going to rain, heavily, later—and yes, his prediction is true.

He prays for the other lightkeepers to finish their duties safely out there, he knows some ambitious members that are so dedicated in fighting the wild hunt. Maybe, he will check on them when the storm is over. Nikita isn't one fond of overtime, but he worries that Illuga may be overdoing it.

Flins is about to make himself comfortable on his seat, a bit groaning for the upcoming report writing and some other paperwork, until he hears knocks. Sounds so hurried that it prompts him to open the door faster too, it may be someone in dire need.

Oh, much to his surprise, it's his new friend from the other day. Blond head, big and tall figure, soaked like he was just thrown into the sea, and he looks exactly like a wet puppy.

“Oh, Sir Knight again? The weather is unfortunate, you are drenched from head to toe.” Flins states the obvious, greeting the unfortunate man with a tiny polite smile of his. 

Scratching the back of his wet head, Varka smiles sheepishly, either embarrassed or troubled with his own predicament. “I'm sorry Flins but may I borrow some supplies again? I-I know I haven't returned the favor from the other day but … our boat gets knocked—uh …”

That time, they ran out of food to eat after a long journey, now he has himself and perhaps his subordinates too surrounded by the raging storm. What a pity. Flins remembers there are some other old tents and blankets, and few other camping tools. Though he doesn’t know whether they will help with this current weather condition, he offers the supplies to Varka along with some additional rations, again.

“The tents were humble, but they will suffice to shelter you and your subordinates from the storm or I believe it’s better to take your men here since I am not sure if the tents will be enough for the storm. I believe going back to Nasha Town will take a longer time.” There is a spacious area around here which these knights have been aware of but Flins still offers the suggestion.

Instead, Varka smiles. He receives the supplies with a hearty laugh. “These are already big help, more than enough. I don't bring a lot of people and the rest are still in the town. But … Thank you, Flins. I promise I will return them soon.”

And there he goes, disappeared in the fog and mist of the rainstorm. The storm is persistent until midnight, he only hopes the supplies are truly enough. He recalls there is no adequate shelter or something like a cave nearby, so he wonders how the poor knights survive under the harsh weather. 

What was Varka thinking?

Fortunately, the next day is a sunny one yet the Final Cemetery area would be always blanketed by clouds. No thunder as much as he can hear, and the wet soil scent is gradually disappearing. Flins is getting ready for another day filled with patrol and fending off the Wild Hunts when he hears another knock on his door. 

Who is it this time? Does Nikita send Illuga again to discuss the recent reports regarding work or maybe another lost traveler who accidentally wanders to this cemetery? He’s going to find his answer when he opens the door only to find the familiar face from the other night again. “Oh, it's Mr. Varka again. I thought you were my colleagues from the headquarter.” 

There are piles of folded tents and a bag of tools handing out to him. Despite the previous terrible storm and how it is still wet in the morning, all of the things given back to him are dry. There is no trace of water, not even a drop of it. 

“We are heading back to Nasha Town. The supplies you lent us were a big help. Thank you so much, Flins.” A large grin is painted on his quite handsome face. Flins nods with another tiny smile adorning his face, he’s always happy to help people in trouble especially this person.

Flins can't admit it explicitly but something about Varka seems like pulling him close—that he wants to help him again and again, to yearn to meet him in another chance, to draw the time to converse with him.

“My pleasure. Please be careful on the way back to the town, Sir Knights.” 

And again, there he goes. Flins lets the chance slide to stall the Grandmaster to talk. Maybe some other day, they will talk again. This time, Flins watches that broad back figure walk under the good weather, Flins can see it clearly.

The shadow of the distant past, the promise that wants to be fulfilled.

It has been a few days since the rainstorm. Flins is busy cleaning the cemetery area when he spots the similar figure again, not too far from his position. The blond knight is also busy looking for something under the stones around the coast.

He can’t help but approach the tall man who is crouching near a pile of shells. 

Varka is really full of surprises.

“I'm beginning to suspect you as someone from there—” he glances at the big experimental building behind them, “—if you keep loitering around here.” That is an unusual kind of greeting, yet Flins suddenly has the desire to joke around. Well, his joke is not randomly made though, fatui soldiers come from different nations. Mainly are from the North Kingdom, of course, but he has seen some people that claim to be from other nations.

And there it is, another loud laugh that sends his eyes into crescent shape. “When there's a huge slash on my back coming from them? HAHA nah! I'm looking for something." Varka replies with another joke and a brief mention why he is there, again.

“Oh, you left something here?” unconsciously Flins looks around the shore, thinking what kind of item that Varka is looking for.

“More like, one of my men accidentally left something here during the storm. It was a notebook. Not that it has some information regarding our expedition, but it's a precious one. Something personal.” Varka finally stands up, followed by a short stretching for his back after crouching there for god knows how long.

“I understand the sentiment, personal belongings are precious for the owner.” He thinks of one of his gemstone collections, probably he will do this too if one of them is lost in the middle of nowhere. Unlike his detached manner to that promise, Flins is dedicated to taking care of his collection.

“He said to let it go but I know it contains a memento from his wife back in Mondstadt. I have taken the guy into long journey for months—” 

“—so it feels like your responsibility?” He rarely cuts off someone's talking, but something has tickled him in a way that he can’t describe. He likes this man already since their shared talk in the tavern, it reminds him of something homey, something close, and precious.

Like the cold wind from the North.

“Spot on. I will look for it over there, the wind may cause the note or the memento to fly somewhere else.”

And that is how they spend the entire afternoon looking for a necklace, which happened to be hooked on a dried branch quite far from their spot. The necklace looks old already, yet the pendant doesn’t lose its shine. Flins knows better than anyone that such a pendant has gone through countless histories.

“That's another debt I need to pay for the next day—but thank you again for the assistance.” Sometimes Varka is so polite and calm, and sometimes he will laugh at everything. Flins is a bit puzzled yet seeing that kind of behavior, but he supposes … Varka is just built like that—

“It is always my pleasure to help troubled passersby. You don't owe me anything.”

—and Flins likes this man already.

“When you visit the town, let me treat you to a drink in the tavern. I insist.”

He has no plans to visit the town for now, but he has no urge to refuse. Drinking with Varka is fun according to his one time experience meeting him before, he is looking forward to having the chance again. Thus, he smiles. “Thank you.”

Days pass guarding the area, sometimes he deals with annoying robots, or some unfortunate thief, or mostly the wild hunts. But, human encounters are the most amusing ones. The same person can carry different kinds of air that his ghostly neighbors don't have.

Oh, of course, because they are living humans.

Pondering around the graveyard before another round of tiring patrol, Flins' sense picks a signal. Noises are heard from the northern side of this island and he couldn't bear not to check—who knows if it's some random Wild Hunts again?

There again, he finds the same person who has become the object of his late night thoughts. Varka, the North Wind from Mondstadt.

What's the reason he comes to this place this time? Without him realizing, he walks towards the man with hands behind his back. Gracefully approaching the man who is sitting on the rocks, eyes look far to the horizon.

“Looking for another memento? Or shielding from the storm?” That's considered as a jab to the sunny day that time. Flins enjoys Varka's startled look due to the sudden greeting, but as expected from a battle-hardened person littered with scars, Varka schools his expression quickly.

“Nothing. I realized the scenery here is interesting. I want to visit it again and of course without digging the ground for a memento or shielding from the storm.” Varka jabs back with a lopsided grin, charmingly swoops Flins attention fully to that handsome face.

At that time, he feels that familiar gale, gentle breeze and warmth in the middle of winter.

"Flins?"

Waking up to his stupor, Flins forcefully focuses his senses to the present. He finds himself again here, on the shore with his guest, watching the scenery before him.

Flins looks around, curious about what this person considers as 'interesting scenery'. All he can see are the murky cloud, few souls lingering around the cemetery, and the big Fatui building that pollutes the area. Piramida city is quite farther up north, providing the shadow of a guardian watching them from afar.

“The big fatui experiment bureau building is interesting to you? Oh dear sir Knight, your taste is unpredictable.” And Flins doesn't mean to tease since he is genuinely curious. A human that finds this place inciting excitement? That's new. The last human stepping their foot on here invites him to go back to the Piramida City.

And there again, Varka laughs. He never runs out of that, suddenly looking too bright for this solemn area. “HAHAHA but not that one, thank you. Over there, you can see that big stage of a nation.” 

Two pairs of eyes are now watching the waterfall on the horizon, being a foundation of a whole nation built like a stage. Even crazier, they can see some silhouette of mountain peaks. He doesn't pay too much attention to this before, nevertheless, he finds the sight is actually quite impressive. 

“That is Fontaine. I haven't visited it yet, the visitors said it is filled with another kind of robot. Though I bought several items from their merchant sometimes.” Ah, Flins remembers the one gemstone he acquired last month, the striking blue color reminds him of the possible ocean floor stream. So gorgeous.

“Me either. Our expedition took a different route, I visited some nations but not that one yet. I wonder what they have inside.” That's surprising, Flins thought this man has traveled to all nations. But again, Teyvat is huge. Even in his long age, he doesn't travel a lot.

He ponders again, what does this huge continent have all these years? He has witnessed love, laughs, angers and even sadness from the small circle of area he has stepped into. He himself experienced affection, hopes, even regret. All the memories of wordless yearning come to mind again, sending him into a question.

How is my fate going to unfold?

He wonders, thinking about hundreds of years of living, fighting, and yearning. He is curious, the emptiness in his heart—would that long-discarded promise be able to fill it? Does the connection really exist?

“A sense of curiosity does bring us somewhere." Flins doesn't know what he's saying, but he continues. "Sometimes it becomes the base of one's motivation too. You hauled from a far place, was … is it driven by curiosity too?”

“Yes. I'm coming here for something, for the moon, for my home.” He hears thick determination in that statement alone. "It's been a long journey." 

Flins draws his conclusion. Truly, Varka has proven himself that he doesn’t emit suspicious behavior compared to sly merchants he has met previously. He cares about the people around him, having this balanced friendliness and stern surrounding his person.

"That is a brave decision," it really is. Such a brave decision to haul from a far place, coming here with troops, for the sake of their nation.

Flins witness the giggles formed on that handsome face of the foreigner. “I guess you're right. We don't talk about the 'thing' often. But somehow your words remind me of something.”

“Mind to share, Sir Knight?” 

“Curiosity.” Oh, the thing that Flins pondered too a while ago. “You get me on that. Is there something that piqued your 'curiosity'?”

Now they come to personal questions. Flins knows how to handle this situation well without having to overshare his personal life too much, but still manages to share something he finds exciting as well.

“I like collecting gemstones and ancient coins, they hold some sort of value. I'm 'curious' about that kind of thing.” And he loves the tales behind them so much. He also loves building puzzles using bones and he is curious about the potential art he could produce from such materials—yet, he holds himself and stops at his gems hobby.

Another crunchy laugh, Flins has gotten used to it at this point despite his meetings with Varka can be counted by fingers. “I didn't expect that. Interesting! Reminds me of a stone that exploded and broke our wagon a few months ago in Natlan.”

Exploding stones sounds interesting. Flins wants to know more. “I know right? Who knows they can do such things. Now you mention Natlan, care to share something about it? Unfortunately, I haven't visited a lot of places except Snezhnaya and every corner of Nod Krai.”

Another afternoon is spent conversing on the stones and playing with their feet in the water about Varka's journey. Flins is no stranger to travelers' tales of places they have visited. He also wonders if the place has interesting stones to collect, maybe when he has the chance, he would visit the nearest regions.

The sun has begun to set at the moment he listens to the Varka’s chatter about other unfortunate events around Natlan volcano that burned their base camp. The tale is so silly that they couldn't help but giggle. However, Flins can already sense the upcoming sleepless night guarding Nod Krai—leaving no room for funny stories.

“Oh it's late. I have to leave, Wild Hunt attacks are more frequent during nighttime. It's such a pity that your story is cut in the middle.”

Realizing the darker sky, the taller man looks around. It is really late. “I have to head back too. I promised Ineffa to buy some food for Aino.”

Another surprise that doesn't seem surprising, Varka knows the genius Aino and her robot friend. Apparently, he seems close to them too. Maybe Flins can include Varka into his list as a potential distraction for Aino whenever she holds a seminar for the Lightkeepers, and for the better side—he seems to take care of Aino too.

“You take care of them often. I guess it comes naturally.” Flins is genuinely amused, he finds Varka interesting. Tons of tales and surprises, what's else next?

“Uh pardon? I didn't catch that?” 

“About you taking care of lots of people. You came to find me to borrow supplies for your men, you came here again to look for your subordinate's memento, you came here to satisfy your curiosity while worrying about someone else's well being. You do that naturally, out of your own goodwill.” Flins may love to twist his words for his own favor but he knows when to appreciate a good person. He once turned his heart from humanity until he was awoken by the same helpless whisper coming from humanity. 

When there's a good thing, then it wouldn't be a waste to praise the same good thing. He appreciates his lightkeepers comrades dearly, as they show him the worth of fighting alongside them. He also respects good natured people.

And as expected, the blond man giggles again as if his lifeline energy comes from that. “Can't help that they do look like lost kids when I'm not around.” 

He smiles, suddenly thinks about the kind-hearted Sousi who never gets a promotion despite his efforts. He may not get what he wants, but a lot of people look up to him. The leader that everyone needs. The one that naturally gains loyalty from their group.

“I can see why they are so loyal to you. It is a good thing, especially when you only have each other in foreign land. When one only has themselves, they tend to lose in their travels. Sometimes it brings them good things, sometimes they run into problems. There was a certain period when I wandered by myself before settling here, it wasn't all pleasant—ah I apologize, I stall you here when we have lots of things to do. Then, may you have safe travels back to the town, Sir Knight. I look forward to another conversation.” 

Flins grimaces at his sudden long ramble to the guy he barely knows. He's rarely like this. That weird pull to be closer to Varka—emotionally and physically, is going to cost him something if he lets it out beyond control.

All of the questions in his mind fly as he bids good bye to the tall blond knight, as he walks back to his abode preparing for patrol. Until he stops himself, looking back and finding Varka's silhouette excusing himself from the cemetery area.

Again this time, Varka walks south instead of north.

It is quite a peculiar day today. Looking up to the cloudy sky, Flins feels a stench of omen permeating in the air. He's not usually follow such feelings but his steps keep taking him to the northern part of Lempo Isle.

There, there, he keeps walking with spears in hand. The uneasiness in his chest grows heavier as he begins to smell something like iron and blood. Something definitely happened here a moment ago. Wild hunt attacks? It has quite a high possibility. Then, it is his duty as the Ratnik to assist anyone trapped by the problem.

Flins walks faster.

The silence is eerie, the stone cliff on the right and left side intimidates anyone passing by the route. Hurried steps stop and he meets a puddle of blood. There's no monster nearby, only leaving red and terror behind. Not too far, the victim lies on the ground, covering himself with a very familiar fur coat.

"Hey, can you hear me?" The victim opens his eyes weakly, he's conscious! There are more victims lying on the ground while Flins doesn't know which one is still breathing like this man.

"Wild … hunt," feebly, the victim whispers. Another terror by the Hunt on this land and poor humans. Anger and anguish are felt, controlled, and quickly subdued. Flins know this kind of situation is better treated with levelheadedness. "Someone … chased it … there." And he points in a certain direction with his frail, bloodied finger.

Flins nods, wasting no more time. There is someone baiting this monster over there, he has to assist. Now he runs, sensing another battle near the shore. He hopes there's no fatui soldier mingling around the area at the moment because it will make the matter more complicated.

Nearing the location, he feels a strong gush of wind. A gale, as if it has been angered and wants its revenge. He sees the monster get knocked out to the air by someone, a claymore and a longsword dancing together swiftly, wielded by none other than Varka himself.

For a moment, Flins is mesmerized.

He can feel the anger, but he can't help but appreciate the sight.

The monster is so huge, emitting the foul stinky smell of abyssal corruption. Yet, it is now being thrown like it is just a sack of cotton, Varka gives two finishing slashes to the air, now dividing the body into two halves.

It's not enough.

It is. Flins takes the chance to launch an attack, precisely aimed at the head of the monster, destroying it completely with his spear.

"Flins!" the Knight shouts, taking all Flins' attention back to him while approaching him closer. The coat is missing from his person, but it doesn't erase the regal figure of a grand Knight. Varka is really something. Handsome, charming, and strong? Flins doesn't know how to react considering their current situation.

"I was meaning to visit you from the town, but then I saw those passersby get attacked. I didn't bring anyone with me so they—wait wait wait, I need to check on them first!" and he runs south, going back to the group of poor victims he left behind before.

Baffled, Flins tries hard to keep his composure calm. What did that man mean? He was thinking about visiting Flins and then there are bodies of victims after a wild hunt attack?

He has no choice but to follow Varka. He will get his explanation later.

The sky in the Final Night Cemetery is always gloomy no matter the weather—sunny or cloudy, it doesn't matter. It is even in a worse state during rainy days.

Petrichor is thick in the air as Flins sits on the bench in his terrace. The man is brushing his coat that is now tainted by the blood with the rain. A futile attempt, still Flins doesn't comment that much.

The mess has been taken care of, the victims now are rescued and thankfully there's no causality. Flins went with Varka back to the lighthouse and here they are, sitting awkwardly with Varka giving his back to Flins, busy with his coat and the rain drops.

"I recall that you said you wanted to visit. May I know the reason behind it, Mr. Varka? It's not that often I receive a guest like you who wants to visit." Flins begins the conversation. Varka gives him a glance, stays still for a moment, and then dries his coat with a little bit of anemo. Oh, that's how he dried the tent and blanket on the other days.

He doesn't immediately answer as if he has a hard time to find an answer. Instead, he takes a seat next to Flins and faces him with a serious face.

"Now that you ask me about it, it's going to be a silly answer." Is it that silly that Varka needs to calm his head and make a simple disclaimer before answering? Flins becomes more intrigued with the topic. "Please do not laugh."

Flins doesn't have that much talent in laughing at people honestly, even in his nobility era where different matters of status would be a subject of mockery among the nobles. "I will not, I guarantee."

Controlling his breath, Varka takes a deep breath.

"I just want to see you. I can't stop thinking about you. Something about you that makes me want to walk and find you."

… Huh, what?

"I promise it's not something creepy. I'm not stalking you, I swear. It-it sounds weird considering we barely know each other. But I … I really want to get to know you better."

It's not rare where people want to get closer with Flins. It's also not that weird seeing people want to know him more. But it's definitely uncommon for him for people to express their desire explicitly like that.

What's with this human?

"That's … an interesting confession I would say, Mr. Varka." Flins collects himself, calm and cool. Such a confession coming from someone who haunts his mind recently is a lot to take.

"I have more."

What? He still has more confessions to make? Flins' poor heart wouldn't be able to contain it!

Varka now throws his attention from Flins and opts to watch the drizzle of rain in front of them, giving him strength and composure to keep talking. Flins, trying to stay calm, patiently waits until he hears Varka's soft voice again.

"That night when I asked for your help, I noticed something shifted in me. You know, for years I have always been thinking about finding my own purpose—I did a lot, hoping that it would satisfy me. Fighting the bad left and right. I thought with my current position, such goals have been fulfilled. But it's never satiated. I always feel like there's a mission that is innate with me and it's never satisfied whenever I do something and I know this is far cry from my duty."

Flins listens attentively. Different from Varka, Flins doesn't anchor his composure to the drizzling rain, instead he watches that face from the side. Watching the man's face and expression he makes.

"When we started our expedition, I followed the clues to get here, there’s something brewing here that is threatening my home. I've always been a Mondstadt person, my family are from there. Yet when I stepped in Nod-Krai … I feel closer to home. It feels like a call from the North. It’s so weird even to me."

Now all the previous amusement dies as he falls into a quiet silence.

"Even weirder when I met you, this mission—the weird relieved feeling when I saw you despite never meeting you before."

Flins holds his breath although he has no need to breathe. Suddenly his feet feel funny and he begins fidgeting with his fingers. He doesn't know what to wish, what to hope, and what to expect from this conversation alone.

"It feels like I have fulfilled a longtime promise that I don't know. To come back, to see someone, to—even just to loiter here and find reasons to talk with you."

Varka is truly a brave person. Imagine if he talks like that with someone that is not Flins. What is he going to do? He is lucky that it's Flins who hears the confession. It's Flins who is now breaking apart inside due to the same source.

Flins can't help but fall into stupor. Images of the bearer of promises to him, eyes as blue as the ocean and the manifestation of the sunshine in Snezhnaya colder weather, come to mind.

He treats it as foolish wishes. Mortals don't have that power to keep such promises lasting for centuries like that. How has it been, for him to discard the hope for another encounter?

But Varka is not someone from the North. It may be just another coincidence, ah, yes, it should have been a coincidence. It should have been a damn coincidence.

"It feels like this place is as familiar as home to me. Meeting you just enforces a similar feeling inside me. You seemingly are the light that I always want to see whenever I'm on my journey. When I see you during those storms, I feel out of harm's way."

"You look like the tiny hope I always want to see where I'm lost in a cave. I feel safe with you."

Does fate play with him again this time? Is the foolish yearning actually not foolish at all? Flins should have known better that now his defense becomes weaker and weaker. Logic tells him to not fall into the trap of his feelings but his heart keeps screaming that he has to hug this person real soon.

Heavy stillness blankets these two since Varka doesn't continue it anymore, nervously waiting for any kind of response from Flins and Flins is not sure what kind of reaction Varka is expecting from himself.

Should he go overjoyed? Hugging him deeply?

Or should he keep the idea that such a promise is impossible to fulfill?

"I didn't expect that you'd say all of those, Mr. Varka. Please be considerate to my poor heart, you scared me." Panic suddenly appears on that handsome face, Flins smiles—no, he's not finished yet.

"Please do not worry, I meant no harm. You just surprised me." And now Flins is struggling to stay calm but he tries, hard. "First of all, I'm extremely honored that you choose to convey your feelings like that, all truth and honesty, to me despite our few encounters. In fact, I'm glad that you find me trustworthy enough for this. But honestly, for now … I have no answer for your puzzling feeling, but I can help you to figure it out."

And to figure out my feeling out too.

"To be quite frank, I'm also looking forward to spending more time with you. You are an interesting person, you should know that. You make me curious about a lot of things. How does it sound to you?" Flins wants to experience it slower and more properly. If Varka really carries the centuries old promise from his past lovers, Flins will reciprocate.

Varka tilts his head, confused. "Pardon?"

"Haha Mr. Varka. I mean, how does it sound to you if I propose this idea for us, to find out what we are feeling, together? Your confession aligns with mine, that I have this trouble too of finding a specific purpose." He is really doing it, for the sake of a dying oath made by an old man centuries ago. "Somehow, such feelings are related to you."

Interest is clearly painted on Varka's face. Eyebrow raised, and he now leans closer to Flins. The closest proximity they have so far. "Really? What are you feeling right now?"

Flins reminisces the past images like a short movie in his mind, carefully choosing his words. "It's like a distant and persistent memory that I want to know, whether it's true or not and whether it is just my wishful thinking or not. Apologize for the vague explanation, since it's also unclear for me."

Varka nods and leans back to the chair, "I guess … we are on the same line now?"

"You could say so." Flins utters an agreement. Somehow, some part of the heavy feeling in his chest gradually diminishes itself. They are replaced by a new sense of motivation and relief. A different kind of hope.

"So, what are we going to do then?" Oh Varka, too eager and finally asks the million mora question.

Flins has a lot in mind, some even are mischievous suggestions. Is this time for a repayment after Varka causes his heart to fumble in disarray?

"Give me your hand," is quite bold, but Flins craves it. The already ungloved hand is now held by Flins, examined and massaged. Sure, there's nothing malicious. Flins is only curious, didn't they talk about it before? That curiosity is some sort of motivation?

Flins is definitely curious regarding everything about Varka. Varka waits awkwardly, watching Flins holding his land like he is studying every crevice on his palm. But the touches are welcomed, the warmth from Flins himself and the cool air from the weather, giving the best and relaxing combination for these two.

"Your hand's warm," Flins comments. "Suitable for colder air, as if you haul from somewhere cold." He is rambling at this point, but neither wants to correct it. The comfort is too good to discard.

"Well, there's an icy mountain in Mondstadt," jokes the blond head. Giggling and sweet, Flins can't help but join the train of tiny laughs together. "We can go there if you want to, someday."

Flins has enough snow on a snowy plain actually, but the idea is palatable. Maybe, someday when this land is not in danger of monsters anymore, perhaps he will.

"You remind me of some old words, eaten by flow of the time, but affectionate enough to leave a prominent trace in me. Its warmth is the only thing I could remember from it." He doesn't have the intention to let that hand go and Varka lets Flins hold his hand even longer.

"Count me the same." The knight replies, now reciprocating the gesture, holding Flins' hand tighter. More, maybe some memories from the Ley Line play into Varka's soul if that is really a thing.

What Flins is sure now, the man before him right now is the man who carries the same warm spirit of his old vow. Flins doesn't see him as a replacement—such behavior will be a disgrace to Varka's honor actually. In better words, Flins sees him as someone as equal as the past human who had taken his interest.

Varka carries the same scent, the same charm that draws his curiosity and affection and Flins will gladly, selfishly, indulge in it. The previously unexplainable interest between them now gradually has its reasons.

Bound by an oath or not, both Varka and Flins find each other interesting and satisfy the pang they have hidden since long ago. They find common sense in that, and they like it. Maybe it's fate, maybe it's something else.

They converse and converse. The space between them can be considered gone, hands tied to each other. Flins getting to know more with the man and the same way for Varka too. It's so easy to fall into diverse topics with Varka, and the way Varka never pushes too much. They go along the flow like the river stream during spring season, calm and not demanding.

After everything, Flins can feel that he has fallen to the charm of another human.

To the north wind, uh?

Maybe it is really fate or maybe it lies on their choice to live. One thing they could be sure of is that their union is made from countless decisions they have made in the past.

Flins is content with what he has and Varka is happy to indulge in their newly found adventure to figure things out together.

After years of loneliness and denial, for once Flins thanks the fate for bringing an interesting person into his life. Again.