Snowman 10

Legend of the Snowman-Mancer 10

Rosaria

I watched the single biggest source of my headaches fly away. Euri Lawrence was an ally, a reliable one. He was the master of Dragonspine, the single most inhospitable region within Mondstadt's territory. During his nine years in self-imposed exile, he rescued countless people from the mountains and dealt with several issues before they could require the knights’ intervention.

There was also something about “sus-Bedo” in his missives a while back, along with presents for Albedo and Klee. I tried to make heads or tails of it, got a headache, and passed it on to Jean. Some things weren’t worth looking into, even for me.

Of course, not everyone he saved was an innocent hiker in over his head. The mountain range saw more than its fair share of smugglers, poachers, and bandits, even a spy for this or that organization now and again. They all thought that the poorly patrolled mountains were the perfect place to hide, not realizing that the mountains were left alone because most people died.

Euri didn’t kill every spy he found. In fact, he typically saved their lives. He kept them around for me to interrogate so that we could ensure their broader organization posed no threat to Mondstadt. The Oracle of Dragonspine understood the value of information, go figure. 

We’d come to an agreement over the years. Whenever he captured someone interesting, he’d leave a crystal rose behind. “A frosty rose for a frosty rose,” he’d said, the unfunny bastard. He’d even made a prioritization system: The more thorns the rose had, the more potentially dangerous the person was.

I snatched a crystal rose out of the air. It was gorgeous, though I’d never tell him that. I molded the rose into a hair clip and slipped it beneath my nun’s habit.

More worryingly, every one of those falling roses had exactly five thorns along their stems. That was more than any other I’d ever been given, and in the middle of Mondstadt of all places. Even the Fatui sergeant he found once only warranted four. Something was coming, something more immediately urgent than the Fatui already in our walls.

I let out an annoyed sigh. That meant I didn’t have time to handle this myself like I usually did. Usually, I would have tapped Jean, but she’d vanished with Euri in the blizzard. No doubt they had their own concerns at the moment.

I’d best find Kaeya. He could mobilize the knights properly while Euri did… whatever the hell he was doing. Perhaps Albedo as well; Euri always did seem to hold the alchemist in extremely high regard for some reason. And Diluc. His status as the “Darknight Hero” was a poorly kept secret.

I had work to do.

X

Euri Lawrence

Lumine, Jean, Venti, Paimon, Durin, and I were outside Mondstadt now and headed towards Starsnatch Cliff. The idea was to summon Dvalin so Venti could have his heart-to-heart moment with the dragon. And if that didn’t work, we’d just have to have Durin sit on him.

We cruised along on Durin’s back. Even without most of his mass, he was easily as large as a big minivan.

“Eula? What exactly did Barbara learn from you?” Jean asked with a fragile smile. It was a loaded question, one of Klee’s Jumpy Dumpties in verbal form.

Everyone knew just how protective Jean was of her little sister. Jean was a little distant from Barbara, but that was because the gorgeous blonde couldn’t delegate her way out of a paper bag. And as a consequence of her good heart and poor time management skills, her relationship with her beloved sister often took a backseat to her work as acting grandmaster. As I’d told her previously, the acting grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius had better things to do than look for lost cats.

Jean made up for this in part by having daily briefings of Barbara’s affairs delivered to her desk each evening. The “Barbara Surveillance Brigade” may as well be an official part of the knights’ organizational structure at this point. If I remembered right, not everyone in Barbara’s fanclub was there strictly for her singing and dazzling smile.

Eula, my darling other half, could recognize the clouds on the horizon. She looked at me with mounting panic as she desperately thought of something to say. Anything but the truth was fine.

‘Save me,’ her eyes implored.

‘Nope, you’re on your own, little sister,’ I replied with our highly synchronized body language. What the fuck was I supposed to say? Jean in mama bear mode was a menace.

‘You started this!’

‘You taught Barbara that lewd drinking song about a nobleman’s wife rimming a donkey because she couldn’t see in the dark!’

‘I was drunk! And you swore not to tell!’ 

‘I didn’t tell. She’s asking, see? And that means I didn’t tell,’ I replied with a saucy wink. As her big brother, it was my Archon-mandated duty to drive her up the wall.

‘This is betrayal, brother,’ she signed, silently fuming.

‘This is your fault. You should know what bored-Euri can get up to by now. You’re the one who decided to lounge around after stealing the lyre.’

‘There will be a reckoning. I will have vengeance,’ Eula swore. She didn’t need to say anything verbally. I could practically hear her signature words by now.

Then, proving that she truly was the greatest travel guide and exposition machine in Teyvat, Paimon floated between us. “Hey! Why are you just staring at each other? Are you having a staring contest?”

“She’s right,” Lumine said. “We can worry about what Eula did to corrupt Jean’s sister later.”

“I did not corrupt Barbara!” Eula squawked.

“There will be an investigation,” Jean promised seriously. Was this the best use of the knights’ resources? Probably not, but it was fine… probably…

“I-I have nothing to hide.”

“We’ll see, Eula…”

“I-In the meantime, was it really okay for so many of us to leave Mondstadt? We represent a significant portion of the city’s fighting strength.”

“Yeah, like ninety percent of it. The other ten being Klee,” I shrugged. “They’ll be fine, sis. I gave them some forewarning.”

“Forewarning for what?” Jean asked.

“Nothing, really. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure, Euri?”

“Relax, Jean. It’s fine, promise. We left Kaeya and Diluc behind, remember? Trust your subordinates.”

“Diluc isn’t a knight anymore.”

“You know what I mean.”

In canon, the Traveler, Jean, Diluc, and Venti failed to free Dvalin at Starsnatch Cliff. They instead had to chase the dragon all the way to Decarabian’s old fortress-city, now Stormterror’s Lair. There, they’d have a climactic battle before freeing Dvalin from the abyssal corruption.

While that happened, Mondstadt would be invaded by an army of hilichurls. The gang would return to find Amber, who’d closed the gate into the lake-bound city. I couldn’t remember why exactly the Abyss Sibling launched such an ineffectual invasion of Mondstadt, but that was how the Traveler found out that the Abyss had a prince or princess.

I’d more or less replaced Diluc in this outing. He’d helped Lumine and the knights investigate the Temples of the Four Winds, but he’d since remained behind in the city. With Rosaria and Kaeya there as well, I doubted Amber would have any difficulty holding the bridge.

X

We made good time to Starsnatch Cliff. Being the worrywart she was, Jean urged Durin faster so she could go check on Mondstadt. Really, that girl needed to relax a bit. It wasn’t like her subordinates were incompetent… mostly… the ones who mattered…

We arrived and Durin shrunk down even more until he was as large as a volleyball, about the right size to use my shoulder as a perch. 

After a few minutes for me to rest, Lumine handed the Holy Lyre der Himmel back to its rightful owner. It was a six-stringed lyre made of dark wood, maybe mahogany or walnut. It had simplistic silver accents and a turquoise jewel at the base that channeled Anemo energy.

All told, it looked pretty underwhelming. Had I encountered it in the wild, I’d never have pegged it as a divine artifact, but maybe that was the point. The God of Freedom was a simple, unpretentious god. Excessive extravagance wasn’t really his thing. As the winds began to stir, I couldn’t help but feel that this kind of plain design suited him best.

Which made me wonder: Whose idea was it to build such a fuck-massive cathedral in Venti’s honor anyway? Because it sure as shit wasn’t Venti’s.

Shaking my head, I got ready. Despite possessing the Anemo Gnosis, I’d never call myself a devout worshiper of his. If anything, I was rather irreverent; I’d threatened to piss on his statue if he didn’t grant me an audience, after all.

But this, this was different. A serene silence fell over the cliff as the Wandering Bard walked to the edge alone. Venti’s fingers danced over the lyre expertly. He wove a melody filled with nostalgia and sorrow, bittersweet joy and regret.

For all my irreverence and candor, I was still a son of Mondstadt at the end of the day. Hearing him play the sacred lyre was, quite literally, a religious experience. I carved the melody into my memory. How many other bards could claim to have heard Barbatos himself play this sacred song?

Even knowing what was coming, I almost lost myself to the music. Then, the melody was broken by a fearsome roar, almost a rival to Durin’s own. Off in the distance, a speck that could have been a bird grew bigger and bigger until Dvalin made his entrance.

His arrival kicked up enough wind to throw lesser men like tumbling leaves. And had I not been familiar with Durin’s gargantuan size, his sheer bulk alone would have been intimidating.

Dvalin was an impressive specimen; the game just couldn’t do him justice. When he flapped his wings, he didn’t just push the air, he manipulated Anemo and made the winds Swirl. There was an aura of majesty and ancient wisdom that no graphics engine could possibly capture. On his back was a violet spike, manned by an abyss mage.

He roared, a shout that shook the earth. But it was not the roar of a dragon asserting his dominance over the sky. It was a shout of sorrow and pain, a lament overwhelmed by grief.

“Durin, we’ll hold him down,” I whispered. “Lumine, help Venti purge the spike. Jean, Eula, take the abyss mage.”

“W-What? I don’t think that’s a good idea, Euri,” Jean said.

“We won’t have a choice. Watch for my sparrow.”

I crept closer. Cryo energy swirled beneath my feet, as much as I dared channel without making it obvious. I’d have loved to give Venti and Dvalin their moment, but I wasn’t the one who’d interrupt. 

“You have come… What has been done cannot be undone,” the ancient dragon rumbled.

“Then why do I see sadness in your eyes?” Venti pleaded with his friend. “Sadness that speaks of your yearning for this song…”

“They’re… They’re communicating,” Jean whispered in awe. Durin was one thing, but she was seeing her god and his legendary companion reunite. I imagined it was akin to a Catholic seeing Christ and Saint Peter having a chat.

Then, just as the two were having a moment, the Cryo abyss mage revealed himself. A bolt of magic lanced towards the lyre but I was ready. A sparrow made of ice collided with the attack.

“Do not be fooled by him, dear drago–”

I didn’t let him finish. I refused. If this fuckwit let Dvalin think Mondstadt had sent us to kill him, then we’d have to chase the damn lizard back to the old city. 

We could do it. The grand, aerial battle against Dvalin could be managed with Lumine and Venti alone. With Durin’s help, things would go even faster. Decarabian’s old capital was a ruined mess, with ancient mechanisms no one had touched in literal millennia. That was way too troublesome.

I conjured another missile of ice that shattered against the abyss mage’s shield. It didn’t break his shield, but I did manage to separate the abyss mage from the dragon.

Dvalin reacted quickly. In his half-mad state, he could only assume that I was aiming at him.

“You dare!” he roared. He took to the sky as what I could only describe as a meteor of wind formed in his maw.

“Durin!” I shouted. I snatched him from my shoulder and hurled him like a football.

“Aww yeah! Hi, Dvalin!” he cheered as he grew bigger. I felt my reserves plummet. My familiar had to siphon the mana from somewhere and I didn’t have Dragonspine’s ley lines to help me this time. “It’s so good to see you again!”

The two, building-sized dragons collided with a thunderous bang. They began to bite and claw at one another as they tumbled through the air. It was like getting a glimpse into the past, the days of the Cataclysm and the Archon War when magical titans like these waged war.

I stumbled as a wave of exhaustion hit me. I’d been tossing around a lot of magic today. I had plenty in the tank still, but Dvalin wasn’t an easy opponent. I could feel my reserves draining swiftly. I wouldn’t last long. Ten minutes? Five?

I held Frostbearer in hand. Its white surface bled crimson, much like the sacred tree that formed it. A magic circle bloomed above my head and dozens of chains lashed out against Dvalin.

They grabbed his four wings, crippling his flight. When he tried to bite Durin, two more grabbed his horns and brought his head towards the ground. After all, where the head pointed, the body naturally followed. That was true of humans, and as it turned out, of dragons as well.

“Lumine, Venti, sometime this century, please?” I grunted in exertion.

Dvalin was greatly diminished here. He’d been suffering from abyssal corruption since the day he snacked on Durin’s old body, a full five centuries ago. Had I not known that for a fact, I’d never have guessed it from the titanic physical force he brought to bear.

Ice magic was something I had supreme confidence in, but Dvalin was one of Barbatos’ Four Winds, the dearest friends and lieutenants of a victor of the Archon War. The Erstwhile King of the Skies wasn’t someone a mortal had any hope of fighting, not even me. As strong as I was, as hard as I’d worked these past nine years, my strength was untested. Ultimately, I was a whelp compared to someone like him.

My chains cracked and broke. I reapplied them as many times as I could, but each shattered link took a toll on my mana. Durin helped. He was a mobile avalanche, with all the weight that implied. Without him, even this crippled version of Dvalin would have ripped me apart in moments. He sat on Dvalin and held him down as the main character did her thing.

I barely noticed as a bolt of ice sailed past my head. It wasn’t worth worrying about. It wouldn’t hit me; Eula would never let such a thing slide. The abyss mage shrieked in rage as his plan fell to pieces before him.

He tried to disrupt the purification process, but his efforts were in vain. Jean. Eula. Either would have picked him apart with ease. Together? As thoroughly enraged as they were? He’d have had better luck storming Mondstadt by himself.

Author’s Note

Not much to say. Rosaria is the assassin-nun. Yeah, that’s a thing. She apparently takes care of the counterintelligence bit that the knights are pretty bad at. Because giving a religious institution unilateral authority to investigate and eliminate perceived threats has never been a bad idea… right?

And don’t get me started on Kaeya, that smug bastard. You just know he’s hiding something.