Chapter 42 : Surtalogi's Offer 2

Surtalogi walked over, the soft echo of his steps filling the space between them. He stopped just inches from Orion, his towering presence imposing but not oppressive. His violet eyes bore into Orion’s with an unwavering calm, but there was something deeper in his gaze—an understanding of the turmoil raging within. 

"It is wise of you not to trust me," Surtalogi said, his voice low and deliberate. "Or anyone else for that matter." His lips curved into a subtle smile, almost as if he respected Orion’s hesitation. "But because of that wisdom, I will give you something more valuable than words or promises." 

He reached out, placing a hand on Orion’s shoulder, the touch surprisingly gentle for someone who wielded such immense power. "I will give you the means to see your past. To see the truth for yourself." 

Orion's brow furrowed. "My past?" 

Surtalogi nodded, stepping back. "Find Dainsleif, as I’ve told you. Convince him to stand with us, though that may prove difficult. He has his reasons, and his burdens are heavy. But he holds the key to understanding what you are—what you’ve always been." 

He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "Once you’ve done that, I will find the Dendro Archon for you. Only she can guide you to Irminsul, the tree of all knowledge in Teyvat. And there, Orion..." Surtalogi’s voice dropped to a near-whisper, as though he were revealing something sacred. "There, all shall be clear to you. Your past. Your present. And your role in what is to come." 

Orion stood in silence after Surtalogi's words, letting them settle over him like the final note of a song. The weight of it all—the truth, the lies, the unknown future—pressed against his mind. He exhaled deeply, a long, weary sigh escaping his lips. For now, he needed to accept what was in front of him, even if he didn’t fully understand. 

"Alright," he said softly, his voice steady despite the storm of thoughts swirling within him. "I’ll do it. I’ll find Dainsleif, and I’ll uncover the truth for myself." He paused, glancing down before looking back up at Surtalogi. "Thank you for sharing what you know. You’ve been... surprisingly helpful. It’s not everything I hoped for, but at least I understand a bit more about who I am." 

Surtalogi’s piercing gaze softened slightly, a small nod of acknowledgment following Orion’s words. "All in due time, Orion," he said with a calm reassurance. "The pieces will fall into place when they must. You’ve taken the first step, and that is what matters." 

The room seemed quieter now, the heavy atmosphere easing as Surtalogi stepped back, his commanding presence still imposing but less severe. "Now go," he added, his voice lighter but still authoritative. "Rest. Clear your mind. Tomorrow, I will open a rift for your destination, and your journey will truly begin." 

As the conversation reached its end, Surtalogi turned his gaze toward Skirk, who had been silently watching the exchange with her arms crossed. "Skirk," he said, his voice regaining its commanding tone, "lead Orion to a room of his own. He will need to rest before tomorrow's journey." 

Skirk straightened, giving her master a curt nod before shifting her sharp violet eyes toward Orion. "Come on," she said, motioning with her head for him to follow. 

Orion hesitated briefly, still processing everything he had just learned, but the exhaustion creeping into his bones urged him to move. He gave Surtalogi one final look, unsure of what lay ahead but accepting the strange alliance for what it was, for now. 

With that, Skirk turned and led Orion through the dimly lit hallways, her footsteps silent against the stone floor. The castle was far more vast and intricate than he had initially imagined, its winding corridors lined with strange artifacts and devices he could barely understand. He followed her in silence, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the fragments of information he'd been given. 

After a few minutes, Skirk stopped in front of a door and pushed it open. "This is your room," she said, stepping aside to let him enter. 

Orion peered inside. The room was simple yet cozy, with a large bed, a small fireplace, and a window overlooking the vast, dark landscape beyond the castle walls. It was a far cry from the grand halls of Mondstadt, but there was a certain warmth to it, despite the coldness of the stone walls. 

"Rest while you can," Skirk said, her tone somewhat softer now. 

Orion stepped inside, feeling the tension in his muscles ease slightly at the sight of the bed. "Thanks," he said, turning back to look at her. Skirk’s eyes flickered with something unreadable before she gave him a small nod. "Get some sleep, Orion. You'll find that this Realm is rather comfy." 

And with that, she turned and left, closing the door quietly behind her, leaving Orion alone in the quiet of the room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, staring out of the window into the endless night, his mind still a whirlwind of thoughts. 

**** 

The top of the castle was a place unlike any other, an ancient platform carved into the stone, towering above the shadowy abyss that stretched out endlessly beneath it. There was no sky here, only swirling darkness pierced by distant, faintly glowing orbs of forgotten realms far beyond human comprehension. The air was dense, heavy with a strange pressure, as if the abyss itself was alive, watching, waiting. From this vantage point, it was as if the castle floated above the void, isolated and eternal. 

Surtalogi stood at the edge, his imposing figure silhouetted against the eerie glow of the distant abyss. His long, dark robes moved with the subtle currents of the air, and his gaze was fixed on the far reaches, where the abyss deepened into mysteries no mortal had ever dared to understand. 

Footsteps approached from behind, light yet deliberate. Skirk stepped forward, stopping just short of where her master stood. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the oppressive silence of the abyss settling between them. But finally, she broke it. 

"Master," Skirk said, her voice respectful but carrying a note of curiosity, "may I ask you something?" 

Surtalogi didn’t turn to face her. His gaze remained fixed on the abyss, but there was a knowing smile on his face, as if he had anticipated this moment long before it came. "Oh, I know what you'll ask, Skirk," he said, his tone calm, almost amused. 

Skirk's brow furrowed slightly, but she stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. 

"It's about why I lied about irminsul and why i didn't tell Orion the whole truth about who he is, isn't it?" he said, finally glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "And why I chose to keep the identity of the second Descender a secret." 

She nodded, her violet eyes sharp as ever, though her expression remained unreadable. "Yes, master." 

Surtalogi turned fully to face her now, his hands folded behind his back. There was an air of great contemplation about him, as though he were considering the weight of his words before letting them escape. "It’s simple, really," he said, his voice low and measured. " it’s true that Irminsul doesn’t record anything about descenders because they are not bound to the world's laws , but i have other ways to show him, and If I told him everything now, what could he possibly do with that knowledge?" 

Skirk tilted her head slightly, her curiosity piqued. 

Surtalogi continued, his gaze intense as he paced slowly along the edge of the platform. "If I revealed his true identity... what would change? Would he fly to Celestia and destroy his enemy this time? Or would he simply crumble under the weight of it all, as he has before? Lost again to time, erased from history, forgotten by the very world he seeks to understand?" 

His words hung in the air like a dark prophecy. Skirk watched him intently, knowing the depths of his wisdom but still unsure if she agreed with his methods. "So you plan to keep him in the dark?" 

Surtalogi stopped pacing and met her gaze directly. "Not forever," he said. "But right now, he is not ready. The Orion we need is far from the man he is now. He is incomplete, his power dormant, his spirit untested. Even you could defeat him in his current state." 

Skirk's lips curled into a faint smirk, unsure if she should feel flattered or concerned. "I see." 

Surtalogi stood in the same place, gazing out over the vast abyss beneath the castle. His thoughts seemed to drift as far as the endless void itself. The soft hum of the ancient structure around them was the only sound in the air. He glanced at Skirk, who remained at his side, silent but attentive. 

Without looking directly at her, he spoke. "Go now," his voice cut through the stillness, calm but commanding. "You still have something to do, isn't that right?" 

Skirk straightened at his words, her violet eyes sharpening. "Yes, master." She nodded, her expression composed but determined. "I’ll get it done." 

Surtalogi’s gaze remained fixed on the abyss, his mind clearly focused on matters far beyond the present moment. "Good. Time is moving faster than we anticipated. We need everything in place before the tides shift again." 

Skirk, sensing the gravity of the situation, turned to leave, but then paused. "I’ll be sure to notify the Hydro Dragon of your request at once," she said, her voice steady. 

At this, Surtalogi finally looked at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. "The Hydro Dragon will not be easily swayed," he remarked, his tone thoughtful. "But you, Skirk, have a way with words. Convince him to join our cause. He should have plenty of reasons to go against the divine, and with our new card at hand, he should be more than willing." 

**** 

Back in Mondstat. 

In the dimly lit, warm atmosphere of the Angel’s Share tavern, the quiet clinking of glasses and the hum of soft conversation filled the room. At the bar, a tall man with a dignified presence sat with perfect posture, his amber eyes surveying the surroundings with a sense of calm. His attire was elegant, a rich brown coat trimmed with gold that complemented his refined demeanor. Despite the rustic environment of Mondstadt, he seemed unbothered by the casual air of the place. 

He raised a hand, catching the attention of the bartender, who approached with his usual composed yet stern expression. 

"Good evening," the man began, his voice smooth and deep. "Might I inquire if you have any fine teas available?" 

The bartender, a tall man with striking red hair pulled back neatly and a cool, serious air, studied him for a moment. This was no ordinary traveler. His speech, his bearing—everything about him suggested someone of great experience and knowledge. But this was Mondstadt, not Liyue. 

"I'm afraid we don’t serve tea here," the bartender said, leaning slightly against the counter. "But since you’ve come all the way from Liyue, perhaps you’d like to try our famous cider instead, Mr. Zhongli?" 

Zhongli regarded the bartender for a moment, then allowed a slight smile to grace his otherwise stoic face. "Ah, yes, Mondstadt's renowned cider." His voice had a certain resonance to it, carrying both wisdom and grace. "I suppose it would only be fitting to partake in the local specialties while I’m here." 

Diluc nodded and turned to fetch a bottle from the shelves behind him. As he poured the amber liquid into a finely polished glass, he glanced over his shoulder at Zhongli. 

"So, what brings someone of your... particular refinement to Mondstadt?" Diluc asked, setting the glass down in front of him. 

Zhongli accepted the drink, cradling the glass in his hand as he studied the cider with the same meticulous care one might reserve for an artifact of ancient history. "Just a visit," he said after a moment, his tone leisurely. "I find myself drawn to Mondstadt from time to time. The city has a unique history, one that blends freedom and tradition in an intriguing way." 

He took a small sip of the cider, savoring the taste. "Quite different from Liyue, where contracts and commerce govern every facet of life. Mondstadt, by contrast, feels... untethered. A place where the winds carry stories from the past and the future." 

Diluc’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. He recognized the man before him, of course. Zhongli’s name was well-known among certain circles—someone who carried knowledge far beyond the everyday matters of trade and politics. There was a depth to him that even Diluc, with all his dealings and experiences, couldn’t quite grasp. 

"Well, you’ve chosen a fine time to visit," Diluc said after a pause. "Though I doubt you’ll find Mondstadt as calm as Liyue right now."