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[sharethememory]

[ Of Justice and Contracts ]

Comments

[juridique]

Yes. The hour is late and I believe we've accomplished all we can today; again, thank you for your assistance.

[ Truly, they've made a surprising amount of progress in the span of a single evening. Even if all they have is Childe's conversation with the Traveler and a theory based on what they've discussed, coming here was well worth it. Despite his personal dislike for the man, Neuvillette will admit that Zhongli has been very helpful in several ways and he's grateful for that.

The fountain of Lucine shimmers like liquid sapphires, the lingering Hydro pulsating outward like waves from a stone plopping into a pond; each time one such pulse intertwines with a golden mote of residual Geo, they coalesce into a Crystallize shard. One such shard seems to glow brighter than the others, as though beckoning for Zhongli to touch it. And the second he does, a memory from a long time ago washes over him like a tidal wave:

Who it belongs to is not immediately obvious as it's experienced in first person view, but it takes place on a summer day, the sky mottled with light cirrus clouds with the blue coming through here and there; their shadows marble the blue-pink grasslands that Watatsumi Island is known for. In the distance, Sangonomiya Shrine can be sighted, nestled in what looks like massive pink seashells.

The owner of the memory appears to be a young child, judging by their height in relation to the dark-haired woman they're trailing behind like a duck following its mother. Said woman is in her early thirties; she is dressed in clothes that were commonly worn by peasants in Inazuma around 600 to 700 years ago, and there is nothing remarkable about her appearance. If Zhongli is paying attention, he may notice that the hands and bare feet that occasionally come into view are covered in blue scales. The person who experienced this memory is not human.

A marketplace at the outskirts of Bourou Village comes into view, crowded by people noisily bargaining for fresh fish and squawking chickens. The woman stops to speak with another woman. A friend, perhaps. Their conversation blurs into white noise. A scaly hand tugs at the woman's sleeve; she turns and says "Mommy is talking, dear. Please be patient," before resuming her conversation.

The child quickly gets bored of listening and glances around for something to entertain themselves with. They spot a large puddle from last night's rain and walk over to it; that's when the reflection in the water reveals the child's identity. Neuvillette appears to be around six years old, with shoulder-length white hair and clothes too large for his small frame. Hand-me-downs from an older sibling or a cousin, maybe. With a splash, he drops down to his knees in the middle of the puddle and bends down to drink from it like a dog would.

In the background, the women's conversation can be heard more clearly:

"Your... child is drinking from a puddle. Again."

"I know. I've given up on trying to get him to stop; it's like trying to teach a cat to whistle. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with him."

"Return him to the youkai? Sooner or later they're going to come for their child, you know. And they're going to be furious at you for taking him, Sumire-san."

"For the last time, he came from my womb. I did not steal someone's youkai child." ]

[sharethememory]

[ Being able to draw memories from stone is not an ability that Zhongli ever had. He often wondered — as Azhdaha spoke so vividly of what he had seen— what such an ability would feel like. It was true that working with Monsieur Neuvillette meant that Zhongli experienced a taste of what that might be. But this.

This is something unintentional. Something deeply impersonal.

And while Zhongli does not feel guilty for having seen it, he does know that it was something that he should not have seen.

It also invites more questions than answers. Zhongli knows that Neuvillette is a long-lived species. Of what though — he is not exactly sure but nor does he consider himself an expert on all life in Teyvat. What he is an expert on, however, is history. And this is the story of a boy that is distinctly not mortal being born to a mortal woman. This is the story of a boy being purposefully born into obscurity in a nation far away before finding his way to Fontaine. This is the beginning of a legend. Such things are usually labeled miracles. They are products of fate.

And Zhongli knows first hand how cruel and unkind both things can be.

The quickly disintegrating crystal is shoved discreetly into his pocket, not because Zhongli believes he can hold onto such a memory, but because for some nagging reason he thinks it is best that Neuvillette does not know that he saw it. Despite their cooperation, there is something lurking underneath the surface of their interactions. Something that first Zhongli dismissed as disdain for a foreigner meddling in Fontaine affairs (of which Fontaine was both known for and very understandable considering the nature of the current political circumstances). But the longer that the two of them stayed together, the more Zhongli was convinced that it was something even more than that.

Zhongli clears his throat discreetly into his hand, turning to head back to the aquabus so that he might return to his hotel for the night. ]

Thank you again, Monsieur Neuvillette. I shall keep an ear out for your summons and let you know if I find out anything else that might be useful.