Chapter Text
“Absolutely not,” said Branchmaster Cyrus of the Adventurers guild. He was a middle aged man, with strong arms and sporting the typical blond hair of Mondstadt’s population. Amber always sort of thought he was cool. “You will not be seeing him.”
Ordinarily, Amber would’ve left it at that. Okay, she wasn’t seeing him, that was fine. Especially because she didn’t care for this, and she didn’t want to do it in the first place. But Amber was an adult, now, and being an adult came with responsibilities, and Amber was trying to be the best adult she could be. Adult Amber would not be budging on the matter.
"Come on, Branchmaster,” she insisted. This whole thing---the thing she didn’t want to do, was part of her community service after doing ‘dangerous’ glider stunts. Of course, she would’ve helped out with Ludi Harpastum anyway, but now she was obligated to more boring stuff instead of setting up parade floats. Bummer. “We need to talk to him. Hold him accountable.”
The Branchmaster sighed, and ran a rough hand through his hair. The warm, dim lighting of the Guild dorms made his expression look more severe than it already was. Amber was staunchly reminded of her grandfather, whenever she’d get caught with her hand in the cookie jar. The Branchmaster doesn’t have any lovers, let alone kids…Shame. He really has that strict, fatherly aura---
“The boy’s already been punished enough,” Cyrus said. Amber decided she should stop letting her mind wander. “We don’t need to make it worse.”
Amber groaned in a way only a 17 year old could. The lamps flickered. “It’s not like I want to make him feel worse, Outrider’s promise. But, well, everything these past few day’s have gone wrong…and, uh, there’s a common link between all the incidents, and someone needs to be blamed.”
“And why make him the scapegoat?” This time, Cyrus’ voice took on a venom that she didn’t know it could. It was usually so steady! “He’s barely even ten, if that. It’s not anything was his fault.”
“Except it was.”
Amber nearly jumped out of her skin. She’d nearly forgotten she hadn’t come here alone; Rosaria was just too good at fading into the shadows. Amber shot the nun a look. There was no need to be so mean.
Once again, the usually homey lighting of the guild dorms just made her more clouded in shadow. She barely even looked human, more-so than a wispy wraith in the dark. Amber tore her eyes away and shivered. Back to the topic! Amber was an Outrider! She wouldn’t let little things like scary nuns get her down.
“What? I’m just telling the truth,” said Rosaria. She was always so cold. Maybe it was just the cryo vision. “Even if he didn’t mean to, it’s still his fault.”
The lanterns flickered. The air went stale---which was weird, because it was rare that any air in Mondstadt went stale. Why would it? The breezes were always flowing, always finding their way through the cracks. Nothing was ever still.
“He knows this.” The air went moving again. “And he feels terrible about it, knowing him. Besides, he’s already been through hell and back, isn’t that enough?”
Amber couldn’t stop herself from biting her lip, from letting the conversation put a damper on her usual ‘can-do’ attitude. She didn’t want to do this. Bennett, from the few times she had seen him around, was a good kid. All the Guild orphans were. And she did feel that this entire thing was real unfair, but! But! “Punishments still need to be dealt out. We can’t just…turn a blind eye.”
“That we do,” agreed Rosaria. It was the only thing out of her mouth that didn’t send shivers down Amber’s spine this entire conversation. “He crashed into a group tourists and sent one of them down a staircase; accidentally destroyed one of the floats by breathing sparks; the gliding tournament got delayed because of bad weather, which could be a coincidence, if it weren’t for the fact he has the luck of four black cats combined.”
That was the most Amber had hear the sister talk in a while.
“The point is, him being around has caused a good portion of our activities and events to go up in flames, no pun intended. There’s only a few days left before the main event, and if even that gets ruined too…” Rosaria trailed off. “The entire cities ire will be on him more than it already is. So we’ve decided the most reasonable thing to do, to protect the rest of the holiday and him as well, would be to---”
“To what?”
Amber flinched at the sudden outpour of ‘bad aura’ that Rosaria was now exuding. Didn’t like being interrupted, did she?
“To restrict him from the rest of this years Harpastum,” Rosaria finalized.
“To ban him, you mean.”
Amber’s shoes were suddenly a lot more interesting than they had been a few minutes ago. Fun. “Haha, yeah. When you put it like that…”
But…Being banned was the most reasonable option. Even if Amber wasn’t the most reasonable person herself, she could see the, you know, reasons behind it. Being banned was better than accidentally ruining everything, ain’t it? Better than getting the entire city pissed at you. Amber could contest to the fact that having that many people mad at you wasn’t enjoyable. Sure, he’d probably be disappointed, but… it was just the better option. The option with the least people hurt. Bennett had probably been through a lot already, being a guild orphan and all. But…you know, sometimes you just had to ‘make due’.
“No,” said Cyrus once more. “We aren’t doing that. He’s been excited for the Harpastum since he learned about it, neither me nor anyone else would accept it. It’s his first. It was bad enough that he missed out on Windblume.”
It was an immovable object versus and unstoppable force, or a dog chasing it’s tail. Nothing would change unless someone managed to figure out a trump card. At the rate things were going, Amber was pretty sure it’d be Cyrus. Was the decision actually just? All for the sake of an annual event that would come again next year?
“Besides,” Cyrus continued. “Are you really going to ban a ten year old of people from Ludi Harpastum? That’s just cruel…”
“Yes,” said Rosaria, without any of the hesitation that Amber would’ve had. “That is exactly what we’re proposing, if it means preventing any more damage from that cursed boy, then so be it.”
Amber glared. “Stop being so mean about it!”
“I’m just saying what we’re all thinking,” said Rosaria. “That boy brings nothing but trouble wherever he goes. Ever since he arrived in Mondstadt. Yes, it sucks, but I don’t see why we should cater to him just because he’s young. Why cater to a kid doesn’t understand when he should cut his losses and start thinking about other people for a change? It’s not just him that curse affects.”
The lights went out.
With an almost-silent woosh, the flames in the lanterns flickered off. Even the fireplace stopped burning. Then, there was a thud. Three pairs of eyes snapped to the sound, where a dark figure scrambled up the stairs, sparking from the mouth.
“Look what you’ve done now, Rosaria…” Amber groaned.
“You should enroll him in vision control classes,” said Rosaria, to Cyrus.
Amber, of course, was ignored.
His rough, cotton shirt, rode up his back as he slid against the wooden door. From his lips, smoke was spilling. Elemental control was meant to come naturally with the vision, but it looked like that was just another thing that Bennett was lacking in.
The flames would leak out with his emotions like the moon pulling along the tide. Candles would flicker with his breath, the fireplace would brighten with the roaring in his ears. He had heard that sometimes, visions were given out incorrectly. Given to the wrong people, given not fully developed; like a horse with no reigns or a door with no handle. He’d heard that these people, the wrongly blessed, were cursed and brought nothing but misfortune.
The darkness was muggy and windless. The candles had all gone out. A sliver of light peeked through the rooms window blinds, but was not nearly enough to light up anything.
Even as far as he was from his origins---a tiny backwater town slipping through governmental cracks of a war-busy land---even somewhere new---a country known for it’s welcoming nature---he could not escape that moniker.
Cursed boy.
Cyrus and Sister Rosaria continue to talk in circles.
Amber was working her canines down to nubs with the way she ground them against another. No one had put the fires back. The lounge windows let some light in, but still wasn’t as bright as the outside. Not quite bright enough to see each other in. Amber had thought adulthood would’ve made life simpler, but things only ever became more complicated, and became less flexible.
Sparks accompanied her fingers snapping as an idea shot into her head.
“I know!”
Maybe Amber should go back to control classes. She had been one of those types, the type whose control was bad enough to need them. For a whole three months, she had gone thrice a week until she stopped letting out sparks. Well, stopped letting out as much sparks as she had been before.
“There’s, uh, well I know a kid or two his age who are also missing out on activities. Why don’t I introduce them?” Amber said. “That way they could still have some fun.”
Amber shifted under the two of them. Rosaria shrugged, uncaring. Cyrus seemed to be flexing his muscles in a way to make himself more indimidating. Amber, of course, wouldn’t let things like big muscles get her down.
“Fine,” Cyrus relented.
Yet another success for Outrider Amber! The lanterns relit themselves spontaenously.
Okay, she thought. I totally need to go back.
There’s a knock on the door.
By this point, he had regathered himself enough to relight the candles, and even opened the curtains a little more. Still, he wasn’t nearly gathered enough to answer the door in any capacity. That did not stop the knocker from rattling and turning the doorknob. Bennett’s foresight came in handy. The chair wedged between the knob and the floor kept it from opening. Still, the rattling did not stop until he slammed the travelogue he was reading shut and yelled at the assailent to go away.
“Swanson and Franz are done with dinner,” said a voice. “Come down if you’re hungry.”
The flames were flickering again.
“And I’m sorry you had to overhear all of that,” the voice continued. “Don’t mind Sister Rosaria. She’s just, well, prickly."
Bennett waited for the voice to say something more, but it did not. All he got were heavy, receeding footsteps. Cyrus had left. Outside the window, music floated up into his four walls. Annoyed, Bennett took the curtains and yanked them shut. Stupid Harpastum. S’not like I thought you were fun anyways.