Snowman 19 (Patreon)

Preface

DOBBY IS FREE!!!

Legend of the Snowman-Mancer 19

Durin

I have found my people.

Melusines were cute, humanoid creatures that stood as tall as children. They were naturally very colorful, with splotches and stripes of pastel pinks, blues, and greens on creamy, white bellies. They also had horns, but not sharp like mine; they were blunt and fleshy.

Euri said they had the same texture and pigmentation as sea slugs, but I’d never seen one of those before so I wouldn’t know. It also sounded vaguely rude. I was learning that a lot of things he said were mean, even when he wasn’t really being mean. He was a confusing person.

He also said they were my… nieces and nephews? Elynas, their “father,” was a dragon-like, abyssal entity who arrived on Teyvat five hundred years ago, during what humans now called the Cataclysm. He was brought to Fontaine by Rhinedottir, “Gold,” which made him a sibling of mine alongside Albedo… sorta…

My family tree was so confusing. Rhinedottir was “mother,” the woman who created me and gave me life. By that logic, Euri was “father,” because he gave me a second life and taught me lots of rules about Teyvat and humans. 

That meant I had an “Aunt Eula” and a bunch of human relatives that Euri said were mean and stupid. There was also the Hexenzirkel, the group of witches that mother joined. From them, I had a whole bunch more aunties. And cousins like Klee and Mona. Klee was great. I hadn’t met Mona yet, but she was apparently always poor…?

Oh, and there were the rifthounds and other monsters that mother made. I wasn’t sure if they counted as siblings because they were dumb. And, Euri said mother became “Life,” whatever that meant.

I’d figure this all out eventually. He told me that all of Teyvat could be put on a list based on the degrees of separation we all had to mother. 

“Everything is Rhinedottir’s fault,” he said.

But for now, I’d found my people. I lounged in a park in Fontaine, waiting for Euri to find me again. He was off doing “business,” something about travel expenses. I became the size of a horse, because that was about as large as I could be without getting in the way in a city this crowded.

Several of my nieces and nephews climbed all over my back. One swung from my horns as another treated my tail like a slide. When I didn’t react, people understood that I wasn’t going to hurt anyone and closed in. I saw more of those kamera things Euri pointed out.

“You know, you’re all very lucky that I’m not ticklish,” I pointed out as another melusine grabbed me by the wingtip and stretched me out like a tent. She liked how the sunlight shone through the membrane.

“Yup! Are you really a dragon, Durin?” Kiara asked, adjusting the cap between her stubby horns.

She was part of the Marechaussee Phantom, with a snazzy, blue uniform. I didn’t know what they did, but “phantom” sounded really impressive. She probably had a super cool job.

She dropped by to make sure I wasn’t hurting anyone. She asked me some questions before deciding to stick around and “monitor the situation for the public good.” I was pretty sure that was official-speak for “I’m bored and there’s nothing better to do.”

I snapped my wing closed when one melusine poked the armpit. I wasn’t ticklish, but it felt really weird. “I am as much a dragon as Elynas. We’re brothers, you know, even if we’ve never met.”

“Really? You and father?”

“That’s right. Or, that’s what Euri says, and he knows lots of things about lots of people. We have the same mother, so I guess I’m your uncle.”

“Oh, that’s why you smell a little like him,” another melusine chimed in. All around, her sisters all took a deep breath and nodded as if that made perfect sense.

“I… smell like him?” I repeated slowly. Euri said Elynas died a long time ago. “But isn’t Elynas gone?”

“He is. When he died, his body became part of the Beryl region here in Fontaine. You can still see some of his bones that turned into stone.”

“Oh, kinda like my old body in Dragonspine!”

“I guess so. The Melusine Village is in father’s stomach. Melusine Village smells like him, and you smell like Melusine Village. So, you must smell like him, too.”

“That makes sense.” I was pretty sure they were smelling the abyssal energy that I used.

We started posing for pictures. Eventually, we were stopped by a woman with pink hair, the same one that Euri recognized. She set up a more expensive-looking kamera.

“Here you are. You know, for a big snow dragon, you’re really hard to follow,” she said. She pulled out a notepad and pen. “Do you mind if I ask you some questions for the Steambird?”

“Steambird? What’s that? Is it tasty?” I asked, head tilted to the side. That got a laugh from my nieces and nephews. 

“What? No, a Steambird isn’t a literal bird. The Steambird is the name of Fontaine’s premier newspaper and I am Charlotte, an investigative journalist.”

“Oh, so you write down gossip.”

“News. I investigate and publish only confirmed facts,” she said, faintly offended.

“Ah, I see. Gossip for extra-nosy people.”

“Are… Are you doing this on purpose?”

I laughed and sank into the ground until I became a literal pile of snow.  My big, red eyes blinked up at her. “Hehe, yes, I am. I’m Durin, nice to meet you, Miss Charlotte.”

“Nice to meet you too… Say, how are you…” she hesitated, like she was trying to find the words.

“Alive?”

“Yes, that. You look like a big pile of snow. With red eyes.”

“I’m sometimes a dragon if that helps.”

“I think all of Fontaine noticed,” she said dryly.

“If you must know, I am a creation of alchemy and magic.”

“But why a dragon? Can you take the form of a person?”

“Why not a dragon? Euri, my father, says that you should always be yourself, unless you can be a dragon, in which case, you should be a dragon.”

“That… makes sense?”

“Right? And, I can be a dragon and be myself. Life is good,” I chirped happily.

“O-Oh, I see. So, if Euri is the ‘father,’ does that mean he is your creator?”

“No? Well, kinda? Mother was the one who made me. Euri gave me life afterwards. They don’t really talk.”

“Are they… divorced?” she asked, pausing, as if she was afraid she’d offend me.

I remade my shoulders from the snow pile just so I could shrug. Really, they’d never even met. Could they still be divorced? “Maybe? Is that what you call it?”

“When the father and mother are separated? Yes.”

“Oh, then I guess they’re divorced. He says everything is her fault. Everything.”

“Right… I’m so sorry,” she scribbled something furiously into her notepad. “So… What exactly are you doing here?”

“Being a snow pile.”

“I mean with your father. You arrived with a Fatui Harbinger. That was a Harbinger, right?”

“Right. That was Rosie, uh… eighth…? Yeah, that sounds right.”

“Why was the Eighth Harbinger in your father’s custody?”

“Oh, Euri had tea with her.”

“Tea,” she stated, voice dripping with skepticism. She had a complicated expression. She almost reminded me of Aunt Eula, without the swearing and threats of elaborate vengeance plots.

“Tea,” I nodded. According to Aunt Alice, tea parties could get pretty crazy. Euri beating up Rosie didn’t even make the top ten weirdest things to have happened at a tea party. I didn’t know what Miss Charlotte was so confused about.

“He must take teatime very seriously.”

“He does.” It was a Lawrence thing, apparently. “Anyway, I’m thinking about going fishing. I mean, this is the nation of Hydro, after all. It’d be a little disappointing if I visited and didn’t try any of the seafood.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged. A fishing rod isn’t too much trouble, and I’m sure we can find you a teacher.”

“A rod? Why would I need one? Can’t I just blow up the ocean?”

“Blow up… the ocean…?”

“Yeah. Cousin Klee does it all the time in Cider Lake. She just tosses a bomb in the water and, KaBoom! Raining fishies. See?”

“No! What kind of crazy–No!”

“Are you sure? It’s the most efficient fishing method. Klee’s even a Knight of Favonius so she definitely knows what she’s talking about,” I said with a confident nod. Grandmaster Jean was also a Knight of Favonius and would strongly disagree, but I didn’t mention that part.

“Well, we respect marine life here in Fontaine!” the pink-haired reporter cried. “You can’t just… bomb the fishes!”

I saw Euri’s sky-blue hair even through the crowd. He always kept it in a high ponytail, kind of like an extra-fluffy fox or wolf, and he was a full head taller than most people. Aunt Eula was, too. Everyone in their family was tall, which humans seemed to find attractive.

He wove his way through the crowd with a particular kind of smile. I recognized it because he wore it whenever he found something interesting to do. Like when he made new songs. Or when he built sculptures of random people, frozen in weird positions and placed them near prominent hiking trails to scare everyone.

“We don’t really bomb marine life for food, Charlotte,” he said. “Fish-bombing is exclusively the right of Klee, the Spark Knight. No one else in Mondstadt is permitted to fish this way.”

Charlotte turned and her face lit up with an eager smile. “Oh, there you are! I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Mr. Lawrence. That sounds like there’s a story there.”

“Just Euri, please. And, there is. You see, fish bombing is the protected national heritage of Dodoland, Mondstadt’s most valued treaty ally. Princess Klee is part of the royal line of Dodoland, and so is permitted to engage in her cultural heritage.”

“That makes no sense. Dodoland isn’t a real country, for starters.”

“Of course it’s a real country. Its capital is in the Golden Archipelago. Spark Knight Klee is both its crown princess and liaison with the Knights of Favonius.” Euri said that acting was the oldest form of art. I now watched a master at work.

“Is… Is that right? Are you messing with me, too?” she demanded. He said it with such confidence that she sounded unsure.

He placed a hand over his heart. “I promise to tell the truth and nothing but the truth. So I swear as a twice-expelled Knight of Favonius.”

“I notice ‘the whole truth’ is missing from the customary promise. And you really didn’t have to add that last part.”

“Ah, but I promised the truth, did I not?”

“Ugh, fine. Should we go somewhere else or can I interview you here?”

He raised a set of chairs and a table using Cryo before gesturing to her to take a seat. “Here is fine, Charlotte. What do you have for me?”

She took a deep breath and collected her notes. “First, you arrived on a… Fatui Harbinger. Is that right?”

“Rosie. She is Signora, the Fair Lady, Eighth of the Fatui Harbingers.”

“Okay, I’m glad to receive confirmation. Let’s start with the basics. Can you tell me how you ended up with a Snezhnayan diplomat in your custody?”

“That’s easy. We had shared teatime,” he replied with complete honesty, which was what I told her the first time she asked.

“Teatime… for the love of…” she muttered under her breath. “Teatime isn’t usually confrontational, Euri.”

“Rosie would beg to differ. So would Sandy, for that matter. Maybe it’s a cultural difference? Snezhnayans, you know; they’re all a little bit kooky.”

“How did teatime end with you two fighting?”

“That’s a better question. For starters, she committed blasphemy against Barbatos, tried to steal a cultural relic, and successfully subverted my uncle into selling state secrets to the Fatui.”

“Ah, things are starting to make more sense now. That might have had something to do with it,” Charlotte observed dryly. “So you captured the Eighth Harbinger. Why did you bring her to Fontaine? Wouldn’t it make more sense to extradite her to Snezhnaya?”

“You’d think so, but I had a personal interest in meeting Arle, the Knave. I’ve since surrendered Rosie to the Fourth Harbinger’s custody. Don’t worry, Fontaine isn’t going to get caught up in a diplomatic shitstorm on my behalf or anything, especially since Arle can now prove that I didn’t assassinate Rosie.”

“Assassinate? D-Do I want to know?”

“Oh, that’s because when I first beat up Rosie, her subordinates saw me stab her and then bury her in a small glacier. They panicked and complained about me to Acting Grandmaster Jean.”

“And now, the Fourth Harbinger has the Eighth in her custody, with the full story of what happened, clearing up the misunderstanding.”

“Yup. Oh, and I’ve been kicked from the Knights of Favonius and exiled from Mondstadt so I can go on a journey of atonement for assaulting a foreign diplomat,” he nodded proudly.

“Good to know. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever met a man who lives up to his name quite like you do, Euri.”

“The Oracle of Dragonspine?”

“The Lawless Lawrence.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m pretty great, huh?”

She let out a tired sigh. “That wasn’t a compliment… What will you do now that you’ve delivered the Eighth Harbinger?"

“I agreed to meet a friend in Liyue so I’ll go do that. Oh, before that, I need to send a letter.”

“I see. Thank you for your time, Euri. This has been an… enlightening… conversation.”

“Of course, Charlotte. May you live in interesting times.”

“Hey, I know where that comes from,” she huffed.

X

Furina de Fontaine

I swaggered into my personal suite at the Opera Epiclese with a confident sashay to my hips. That was me, Furina de Fontaine, the Hydro Archon. I was a figure of unmatched confidence and grace, the goddess who turned the justice system into a performance.

The moment the doors closed behind me, my shoulders slumped forward. I let out a tired sigh as I hung my top hat from the hat rack by the door. There were many just like it, all subtly different. All from premier designers, some not even alive anymore.

I unclipped the jabot from my neck. It got caught so I just yanked it off and tossed it on the ground. I’d… I’d tidy up later. Right now, I felt too emotionally drained to bother.

Another day. Another lie.

They said life was a stage, that we were all merely actors playing our parts before the grand finale. They had no idea how true that was. For me. For Fontaine. Possibly for Teyvat.

I threw myself onto my bed. It was the finest money could buy, one of the perks of being a false goddess. Sometimes, when the loneliness and hypocrisy of it all crashed down on my shoulders like the depths of the sea, I’d grab my pillow and scream into it.

I flopped over so I could stare up at the ceiling. Even the ceiling tiles were decorated lavishly; it was, after all, what the Archon Focalors deserved. Every inch of my suite was luxurious beyond belief, but I could only see the Opera Epiclese as a gilded prison. My sole reprieve came from these moments of solitude, when I no longer had to play make-believe.

After who knew how long, I took a shuddering breath and forced myself to rise. If I lay there any longer, I’d mope and doze and get nothing done. Already, I was behind on my duties as things stood. Just this felt as if I was swimming through the depths.

I shed the rest of my clothes and forced myself to take a bath. The warm water always made me feel a little better. Not just the warmth, but the act of being submerged. I wondered sometimes if that was Focalor’s way of giving me what comfort she could.

As I dried myself off, I caught my reflection in the mirror. People said I was a flawless beauty. Perfect, pearlescent skin with not the slightest blemish to be found. A figure that was graceful rather than childish. A face of angelic symmetry that had graced every magazine worth mentioning. Pale, white hair that gently curled like seafoam. Unique eyes that provided a daring pop of contrast.

I couldn’t take pride in any of it because my beauty was a given. Of course I was perfect. I was literally sculpted to be ravishing, the mortal mirror of Focalors herself. Everyone else saw radiant beauty, the timeless standard that every little girl in Fontaine dreamed of. Me? I saw only a soul-deep weariness, the exhaustion born of centuries of fruitless, desperate effort.

“Is this your plan? Does this pageantry please you,” I whispered bitterly. I dared my reflection to speak to me, to voice the words of the true Hydro Archon.

As always, I was only ever met with silence. Such was my fate, to be so near to my goddess. To be made in her literal likeness. Yet, ever apart.

I clothed myself in sleepwear and moved to my desk. If I didn’t get to them now, I’d put them off forever. Once, I forgot to respond to a letter for decades, only to find that the person who wrote it had passed by the time I got to it.

There were three piles of letters.

The first was a series of updates from Neuvillette on the goings-ons of Fontaine. There were trial dockets, though I hadn’t personally attended a trial in quite some time. Others were more political, something about the arrival of the Fourth Fatui Harbinger as the official diplomat from Snezhnaya.

The second pile was a collection of invitations and proposals. They were from directors, actors, and various “important” people who thought they might make demands on the Hydro Archon’s time. The scripts were nice to read through; I’d audition for the female lead if one suited me. The social functions could be ignored; I’d long since grown sick of people kissing up to me.

The last pile was my favorite: fan mail. Not from anyone who thought they were anyone, or even anyone in the acting industry, just… regular people. My people. My citizens.

They were letters from people who watched my operas, people who simply enjoyed my performances for what they were. These, I tried to respond to. They gave me some comfort in days when I could not even bear to look at myself in the mirror.

Here, I found a letter, already opened on my desk. Or rather, it didn’t seem to have been folded into an envelope at all, as though someone had snuck into my room while I’d been performing to place it here. That wasn’t possible, though. The melusines who patrolled the Opera Epiclese were ever alert. I must have set it there the night before.

The penmanship was… It was barely better than chicken scratch. Legible, but I could tell that whoever wrote this had been in a hurry. Curious, I picked it up and gave it a read, only for my heart to leap into my throat.

Dear Furina,

I have some commitments in Liyue that I cannot postpone. Otherwise, I would have loved to visit you in person. As it is, I had a little bird slip this on your desk. I hope you’ll forgive my intrusion.

Time constraints aside, there is something I absolutely have to tell you: I know.

And, I’m a huge fan.

I know that the greatest opera in Teyvat’s history has been in production for five hundred years. I know that its lead actress has given her life to its resolution. I know that, as the sea level rises, the opera is nearing its climax.

I can only imagine how lonely you must feel, my dearest star. I “know,” but cannot truly understand the weight of centuries, the solitude of a stage that is yours alone. You’ve stood alone, performing for an audience blind to the truth.

I know, and so, I feel the need to tell you this. I understand that breaking the fourth wall is a faux pas, but I hope you’ll forgive me: You’ve worked hard, Furina de Fontaine. Yours is a strength in silence. You love them so dearly, and so you’ve picked up a burden that should never have been yours to bear.

You’re incredible. And soon, this burden will not be yours alone. You’ll find allies and friends, people who will walk by your side and make their strengths yours. One day, you’ll come to see what I saw: Teyvat’s greatest opera is not a tragedy.

So hang in there, oh greatest of liars. I know it’s hard, but bear it for just a little longer. Take heart. Know that you are not alone. Know that people are rooting for you.

I’ll come visit you soon as soon as I can find the time.

Your friend,

Euri Lawrence

Oracle of Dragonspine (And many other titles, but this is the one that matters at the moment.)

PS: I stole one of your hats. You had so many on that hat rack that I couldn’t resist. Hope you don’t mind. As a friend of the Dodoking, I too felt the need to acquire ridiculous headwear.

PPS: Have you considered taking a vacation? If you ever want to talk, write to the Northland Bank in Liyue. They owe me and will forward the correspondence accordingly.

I read the letter again and again. My hands trembled as a tidal wave of emotions flooded me. Someone knew. Someone knew, and the world had not ended.

I held that letter and wept.

Author’s Note

Durin is cute. Melusines are delighted. Charlotte is confused. Furina is sobbing. All is right with the world.

Animal Fact: We often assume that time is constant for everyone, but this might not be the case.

Smaller animals with higher metabolism tend to see more detail per unit of time. This suggests that smaller animals experience actions more slowly relative to us. Basically, they’re in a “bullet-time” state in which they take in more detail and potentially make snap decisions faster than we do.

If you’re curious, the journal article is “Metabolic rate and body size are linked with perception of temporal information,” written by Healy et. al. and published in Animal Behaviour in 2013.