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Chapter Text

Liyue and Sumeru are vastly different.

Liyue is full of mountains that stand tall and proud, much like its people who are fair and resilient. Its valleys that nestle rivers are witnesses to the nation’s long history, home to the Geo Archon, Rex Lapis. The air is refreshing and carries a sweet scent with it.

On the other hand, Sumeru is made of contrasting lush forests and humid deserts. The land of wisdom is as rich in beauty as it is in knowledge. The air is cool but warm at the same time, like an embrace from the person you cherish after a long time has passed.

So, standing here, in the border between two different worlds you’ve experienced, feels… weird. Where do you belong? Where are you supposed to go? You were never the type to follow your heart (or are you?) – always letting your rationality rule over (because how can the heart do anything other than pump blood to your whole body?) – but this time, just this one time, you’ll accept the idiom and allow the small organ in your chest to dictate your next step.

Chapter Text

“Pardon my manners, Scribe–!”

What a truly wonderful way to start the morning – someone coming– no, barging in your office and yelling that you have work to do. The notice on his Akasha device done by the Sages would have sufficed, but that certain member of the Corps of Thirty thought ‘oh, let’s ruin Alhaitham’s day right away’ . Archons, he hasn’t even taken a sip of coffee yet! This should be illegal, but he guess nothing’s more not legal than the murder that took place this early.

“Ah! The Scribe is here!” How one has the energy to shout at 7 AM is beyond him.

When he arrived, there were already soldiers and doctors present at the crime scene. Really, he doesn’t know why he’s even needed here, but orders are orders. Four people were murdered near the Akademiya’s entrance, discovered approximately 20 minutes ago. Look into this, Scribe. were the exact words that flashed on his face. He is no inspector so how do they expect him to investigate such a matter? All he can give is a very educated guess and advice at most. For people who are supposed to be the smartest in the nation of wisdom, they do lack common sense.

“What’s the situation?” Alhaitham asks a nearby member of the Corps.

He bows and answers, “As you probably already know, there were four victims – a woman and three other men. The woman is named Mahi Mallaya. The three men are still unidentified as of now. No one has moved a thing since the scene was discovered about 30 minutes ago.” The soldier points to a sword someone is taking a picture of, while the ash-haired man rounds the bodies lying on the cold stone ground. “That is the suspected weapon used in the act of murder since it matches the size of the wounds inflicted on the victims’ bodies, at least by first glance. The doctors will confirm that later.”

Only one wound on the woman but several on the men. I don’t sense any elemental energy. The offender either didn’t have a vision or didn’t use it, unless they managed to completely conceal it. The men have knives strapped on their waists. What’s that for? Why– Alhaitham shuts his eyes. He’s overthinking, a big mistake when thinking rationally. Instead, he says, “Submit a complete report on the victims’ information and details on the crime scene to my office within the day. Compile all the photos taken here and during an autopsy if it will be conducted – submit a folder of that too.” 

“Understood!”

Even as a Haravatat scholar, he can tell the sky is telling him today is going to be a long day.

It’s three o’clock in the afternoon, the sun still high in the vast blue, sending scorching heat down the Scribe’s nape.

He’s already read through the report on the murder case he got assigned to just this morning – he’d taken note of at least 15 grammatical errors by the time he finished, but never mind (it’s not like it’s a research paper waiting to be toasted by the Sages) – and the young man is on his way back to the scene of the crime to gather his thoughts. It hasn’t been five minutes since he left the cool hallways of the Akademiya but he can already feel slick sweat coating his forehead. Sumeru and its summers, really.

Mid-wipe, Alhaitham pauses his strides, his eyes widening a fraction.

A figure – familiar, despite not seeing it for years (the reason, he’s not sure) – is standing two meters away from him, seemingly staring into space. He instantly recognizes who it is. This is the same image, the last image until recently, he has had of this. Back facing him (them), steadily walking away – then. But now, it’s steadily… steady. Not moving. Just there, standing.

It’s unclear to him if he spoke –  if he called your name – but you’re turning around, hair swaying and all. Recognition fills your face, “Alhaitham?” And at the sound of your voice, he snaps out. “What are you doing here?”

The Scribe crosses his arms – it’s his default pose, as you know (that much hasn’t changed all these years), “I should be asking you that. When did you get back?” 

“Four years passed and that’s all you have to say to me?” you retort, hands on your hips. “I can totally feel the warm welcome, Alhaitham.”

The said man glances down and takes notice of the luggage by your feet. He must have made a face because you’re fidgeting. A moment of silence passes. An audible exhale from you.

“Do you want to get coffee?”

***

The cozy aroma of coffee that fills Puspa Cafe always feels like home – at least for Alhaitham. It’s welcoming in the way it beckons you to sit down at a table and inhale, and relax. Except at this moment, the atmosphere is not relaxed – it’s awkward and quiet in a way that’s almost uncomfortable. You and Alhaitham have known each other since you were struggling students at the Akademiya, but that’s about it. You know each other (you doubt the man could have any other relationship than being ‘acquaintances’ with people).

Your orders arrive in no time, and you eye his black coffee in comparison to your iced latte. A hypothesis; the Scribe likes black coffee because it’s the same as his heart – black and empty and bitter. A fallacy, you know. But really, any distraction would do. Carefully looking up, you meet the same cold and devoid eyes you’ve known since then. And they still hold the same words, telling you to spit it out. The words in your mouth.

“I, I heard Mahi… died, when I came back,” you say, finally. You gauge his reaction –  his eyebrows raising slightly as if realizing – he must know the incident that happened today as part of the Matra. 

“Oh,” is all the man lets out. A pause before he speaks again, “Are you staying for good?”

You shake your head, “It’s hard to say.”

Silence again. You fiddle with the straw that came with your drink. “Anyway, what were you doing there?” Pointing a finger at him, you divert the conversation while sipping coffee.

Now, Alhaitham is a smart person. He knows he could have gotten away with the topic by saying he was simply on his way home after a day at work. Afterall, the crime scene – the last of the spiral steps on the way to the Akademiya – is on the way to his house. He could have lied because letting you know his circumstances right now will lead to something he knows will be a pain later on, he knows, he could feel it. But the thing is, he didn’t. Lie, he means.

“I’m investigating it, your friend’s death, along with the others’.”

As soon as he said it, your eyes sparkled faintly. And he noticed. It’s an all too familiar look – curiosity maybe – and he hates it. Alhaitham didn’t choose to lie. But that doesn’t mean he’s letting you have your way – which will probably get someone hurt. Who, he’s not sure yet. He’s going to cut off all ideas before it even forms in your head.

“Of course, the investigation will wrap up quickly under my surveillance, so don't even think about meddling with my affairs." The Scribe stands up from his chair. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

You’re in a trance, and you fall out of it a little too late. “Wait–” you stand too, to catch up to him. But he’s already left, leaving you to glance down at your table, mind racing.

Chapter Text

Sumeru City has changed, but it didn’t at the same time.

Strolling through Treasures Street, you notice the stall where you buy parchments and inks for school is long gone, replaced by one that sells fabrics; the old man that owned the bookshop that housed your favorite novels is replaced by a younger man, his son maybe; people that you don’t recognize but are familiar.

But the noticeboard at Lambad’s Tavern still has marks from the Matra, the hustle and bustling sounds of commerce and daily activities hasn’t ceased, the lady of the Adventurers’ Guild is still smiling and present, the Akademiya remains, standing tall.

Some things never change.

Like the still expensive rates of apartments in the said city.

After calculating that it would cost you more to stay at a motel and pay its rates everyday, than to get a new apartment and stay for a month or so, you open the door to your new abode, and carry your luggage inside. It feels weird calling it ‘new’ since it is the same unit, in the same apartment building, you used before going to Liyue. But it is new. Aside from the fact that you had an apartment in the Nation of Contracts too, the room is not what it looked like after you left. The landlord, Sena, informed you that an old woman stayed after you did, so the walls turned bright pink. It’s safe to say that the granny was still lively despite aging (you make a mental note of repainting before you go blind).

You plump down on the bed, exhausted after walking miles and miles of dirt and rocks. You did visit and rested at Gandharva Ville and said your greetings to your long time friends there, but it still feels tiring.

A heavy heart somehow weighs on your chest. Is this what you’re going to feel the whole time back home? Is this home?

You fall asleep after searching the ceilings for answers to your endless questions.

“Hey!”

Someone is shaking you awake, constantly calling your name in a shushed voice. You groan and bury your face in your arms more. Sleep is a luxury. “Shut up…”

The person must have gotten enough and slapped your shoulder, jolting you awake.

When you raise your head, the surroundings don’t register for a few seconds. You remember falling asleep on your bed… Oh, you’re at school. Out of all the few times you sleep in class… In a lecture by Grand Sage Azar no less. Archons, you plead, kill me now.

“Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice.” You look to the side. A young woman was grinning- no, more like laughing at you. It must be because of how disheveled you look right now. Her mirth reduces to an endearing and sheepish smile. “It’s ten more minutes before this ends, you can sleep then. You know how Azar is.”

Mahi.

Your thoughts are cut off by a rough shove, sending you staggering to the left. “Ah, sorry sorry!” A man, the one who bumped at you, yells at you before dashing down the steps. You’re left standing, dumbfounded.

The people of Sumeru don’t dream, but you guess daydreams don’t count.

You still can’t believe Mahi died. Well, you aren’t close friends . Not close enough to keep in touch even after you graduated, even more while you’re in another country, but she was one of the people that helped you while studying in the Akademiya. She was often your groupmate and seatmate in projects since you share the same darshan – Rtawahist. A kind person, she is. All memories you have of her are good. Having a person you knew die like that feels…

She was murdered, they say. Alhaitham said he was investigating it. If Alhaitham is involved in it, it must be true. You haven’t seen the man do something he isn’t interested in. Well of course, he could have just been assigned to the case and couldn’t refuse orders from the higher ups, but… 

The thing is, you want to know. You want in. You want to know what happened. The Scribe made it clear yesterday that he doesn’t want you to stick your nose in his business, but is it really just his business? You’re a friend of one of the victims, surely you have the right to. Know, that is. And if Alhaitham won’t provide you with the information you seek, you’ll just have to find it for yourself.

You find yourself standing in front of a modest house in the middle of the rural areas of Sumeru City, reluctant to knock. You asked around to find out where Mahi lives, which led you here. I will just ask, nothing wrong with that . With that thought in mind, your knuckles rap on the wooden door.

It opens to a middle aged woman, face littered with a bit of wrinkles, hair a gradient of gray and brown. You offer her a small and kind smile, hopefully easing her worries. “Good morning, ma’am. I’m here to ask about Mahi Mallaya.”

“Oh, yes. I’m the landlord of this house. I heard she died yesterday! Goodness, what a shock it was to me!” It was then you noticed several workers inside the house, clearing space and furniture, organizing boxes and boxes of things.

“Ah,” somehow you feel anxious, “yes. I was a classmate of hers from the Akademiya.” You swallow, preparing yourself for the lie you have to say. “I’m part of the people investigating her… death. I was wondering, is there something you noticed that was amiss about Mahi in the past few days, weeks, months even?”

Her things may have some clue about her death. You need to take a look.

“I’m not sure. That girl was peaceful and quiet while living here, I barely noticed her presence let alone something wrong,” the woman puts a palm on her cheek, deep in thought. You let a few seconds pass, you let her think, remember something, anything. “Ah!” She snaps her fingers, startling you. “There was something! A young man came to visit her a few days ago.”

“A young man?” A family member? Her lover maybe?

“Yes, in his 20s, I assume. I saw them talking just outside, there, in the corner, while I was walking back from the market.” She points to the spot behind the house. “It’s rude to eavesdrop so I didn’t hear a thing, but it looked like the conversation was quite heated. The man grabbed Mahi’s shoulders like this,” she made a motion with both of her hands, seeming like she was squeezing and shaking one’s shoulders.

“Is there a chance you know this man? Or at least what he looked like?” you ask, hopeful. This was such a big heap of information that will surely lead to something .

“No, I only know his name. Arun, was it? Oh, he works for the Akademiya, just like Mahi. I saw him wearing the robes, you know.”

Oh, you do know.

Arun . Arun Gupta. From the Spantamad Darshan, just like Mahi . Lives in Treasures Street, Sumeru City.

A few clicks and searches in your Akasha Terminal gives you the information you need about the first person you discovered since this “investigation”, Arun Gupta. He was said to be seen in an argument with Mahi. Why? About what? For all you know, it could be a threat to her. Arun could very well be her killer. You just need to find his motive.

Which is why you’re here, climbing behind a building in the middle of the city. Totally not suspicious and totally justified. It’ll just be a while . I’ll search quickly and get out, no one would notice a thing . Of course you’re only doing this after you checked that nobody was home. How you did that, you wouldn’t want to share.

Finally reaching the window you marked with a knife, you huff and pull yourself up, landing quietly on the sill. Swiftly entering and jumping down on the floor with a slight thud, you glance around the room, eager to find anything suspicious. You first roam the living room, but there wasn’t a thing out of place – just books on the shelf and decorations. You doubt the kitchen and bathroom would have anything of note, so you went for the bedroom slash office.

The bed is neat and made, but the desk in the other corner is the opposite. Papers are strewn everywhere and piled up in an unorganized manner one would think a hurricane went through it. Well, this makes it easier for you to look through without being noticed (unless he has a system for everything here which is highly unlikely).

You are, by no means, an idiot. In fact, you graduated with high honors in the Akademiya, one of the most prestigious and proud students of your batch. But at this moment, you can’t comprehend what you’re looking at. The symbols, which you’re not sure if they’re supposed to be letters, are a mess. Is it a matter of chicken scratch handwriting or your comprehension, you don’t know. It must be a code . You take out your kamera and capture pictures of all the papers you observed that had the same writings on it, making a mental note of deciphering it later.

For now, you’ve hit a wall. No matter how many times you look at the pictures you took, you can’t figure out what the message is. The lead about Mahi and Arun stops here for a moment, so you decide to focus on the other part of the situation. Yesterday, in the conversation you had with Alhaitham, he mentions other people died with Mahi on that day. Is their presence related to why Mahi died? Are they related to the killer? Or is it all a coincidence that they happened to be witnesses and died too?

“Oh, the victims of the case from yesterday? I heard they were Eremites. I’m not sure if they’re a part of a group or are a group themselves. Maybe you should ask the Scribe-”

“No!” you quickly catch yourself, “I mean, thank you, but no need.”

So there’s that. 

They were Eremites, huh . They’re here in the city but are not known by the Corps of Thirty? They must be from the other factions or just like the soldier said, they might be a group themselves. But then, who are you going to ask about them now? Surely, Alhaitham is out of question. Who knows what that jerk will do when he finds out you’re digging into this on your own. He might just laugh at your face after putting you behind bars (this is an exaggeration, you’re not doing anything illegal… yet?). Just thinking about his smug smile is enough to make your blood boil.

Anyway , you shake your head off the thoughts. You can’t ask the Scribe. Dehya and Cyno are out of question too. Even if you lie, they would figure you out in an instant and tell Alhaitham, which brings you back to square one. You sigh, exasperated. Just knowing their names would’ve been enough for you to continue asking around. Maybe the doctors in charge of the case at Bimarstan would let you know? I mean, what danger could you do to the dead, right? And what are the odds that they would mention to the higher ups that someone asked about them?

“What am I supposed to do…” you mutter to yourself, slowly walking away, failing to notice the large frame marching towards you.

“Ack!” The man bumps your shoulder, a few others trailing after him which you avoid. Their eyes are set on the member of the Corps of Thirty you just talked to, blazing. The red scarves wrapped around their necks indicate that they are Eremites from– Wait, Eremites?

The member that collided with you – their leader, you assume – speaks, voice booming, “Where is the Grand Sage?” Azar? Why would they be looking for him?

A woman from the group steps forward and leans towards the leader, whispering, “Boss, that might be too much. We’re just here for answers, not a fight. Revealing too much here would only put us in danger.” This gets the soldier’s attention.

“What is your purpose here?”

“We demand to know why Waazir and his group died! It’s because of you Akademiya trash!”

Realization spikes through you. These people know the ones that died with Mahi. Bingo! You carefully walk away from the scene, putting distance between you to avoid suspicion, but not enough to not hear the exchange.

“Boss, please calm down!” Another member tries. “We’re sorry for the commotion, but we would like to know what happened to the three men involved in the incident that happened here yesterday,” he negotiates. Unfortunately for them, the soldier denies them information, saying that the details of the investigation are confidential, and would only be publicized once it’s solved. With a click of his tongue, the leader – Kiran, you’ve heard – beckons his group to storm away. You can see in his eyes that they were not satisfied.

You watch them as they walk past you, letting them go ahead a few more meters. Then, nimbly, you follow. Dealing with them looks risky, but you have no choice. Hungry for knowledge, that’s what you always are. These people will know most of why those three men were present at the crime scene and why they died.

You recognize the road they’re taking as one that leads out of the city and into the outskirts. Have they noticed? They all stop walking so you do too. In this area, only you are the people present. It’s quite far from the city’s entrance, but still manageable to run to. There are seven of them, all armed, and only two possess visions. You should’ve known not to underestimate mercenaries. But not to worry, you aren’t exactly battle illiterate. If things go downhill, you have your Electro vision to help you, anyway. 

“What’s a little girl like you following us for?”

“You’d like to think twice before calling me a little girl.”

Kiran grits his teeth, “Did the Akademiya send you? Are they going to get rid of us like they did to the others?” He yells and they all stand in position, ready for battle.

Your eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean, the Akademiya?” But the Eremite group decides to ignore your question and dives right into it. They sprint towards you, and you quickly form a stance, bracing for an attack. A jab from Kiran, too close to your face for comfort – one that you dodge anyway – ignites the fire.

It’s on.