Legend of the Snowman-Mancer 5

  Eula Lawrence

  My brother was frustrating.

  He was a genius sculptor, musician, painter, tailor, and whatever other flavor of “artist” he put his mind to. Nobles in Mondstadt liked to say that art was the “second soul.” Euri would laugh at father, saying they could keep their seconds, because by their silly poetry, he had a third.

  He was a prophet, an oracle who foretold the coming of Stormterror and even gave us tangible signs: Diluc’s return and the revitalization of Mondstadt’s wine industry. Diona’s position as bartender at the Cat’s Tail. Grandmaster Varka’s expedition and the appointment of Jean as acting grandmaster.

  All of those things had come to pass and Mondstadt was ready to weather the storm.

  Our buildings were reinforced. Our people knew to take shelter at the sound of Lisa’s emergency horn. The sisters at the church, Vind especially, looked to the skies for the impending storm. Floodgates were reinforced, channels dug and trees cut down to create windbreaks. Evacuation plans were drafted, and Kaeya and the cavalry were busy drilling our outlying towns like Springvale.

  Many claimed that such measures were pointless, that we were being paranoid. We had seen unparalleled expansion of industry and perfect weather for so long. Surely, Barbatos favored us. He would quiet any storm before it could harm us.

  Jean overruled them all, usually with honeyed words, and once even with the point of her sword. Yes, Mondstadt was the nation of freedom, but we were also a nation with deep, martial traditions. And how could she not, when the very title plaque outside her office was proof of my brother’s words?

  Then my brother’s final prophecy came true as well. Stormterror came, and with him a storm not seen since the Cataclysm. Yet not one citizen of Mondstadt perished. Not from the city, nor Springvale or any other village or town.

  I took vindictive glee in the way those same voices died and their heads bowed. Their own words proved them fools. They called Jean a visionary, but the knights knew the truth: My brother was no liar.

  He was the Snowman-Mancer, the Lawless Lawrence, and now the Dragonspine Oracle. He shone like the northern star, bright and distant. He was so utterly, stupidly brilliant that it felt unfair sometimes.

  And then there were times, times like this one, in which I was reminded that sometimes, the emphasis should be on the stupid.

  I shivered mildly as I hammered yet another nail into the side of Vindagnyr’s highest peak. I fastened the climbing rope and did my best to block out the chill. I was no stranger to the bite of winter, but temperatures at the peak of Vindagnyr was something else entirely. Not freezing to death required the constant use of my Cryo Vision, a more utilitarian application that I wasn’t accustomed to.

  The worst part of this was that I’d met him before. My idiotically brilliant twin may have exiled himself in Dragonspine for nine years, but even he couldn’t avoid coming down for supplies once in a while.

  Four years ago, several months after he commissioned a set of vambraces for me out of starsilver for our birthday, I’d finally managed to corner him and strangle the idiot. I had to postpone my own excursion to wait for him to return to Mondstadt, but it was worth it. He gave me the location of one of his many hidden bases, one near the Statue of the Seven.

  Since then, we met up on our birthday each year. We ate dinner, he played music, and I danced before the statue. I’d inevitably fail to convince him to return, him only saying he wasn’t done yet here. He was still cagey about what he’d been working on, but he assured me “it’ll be hilarious.”

  The menacing cackling did not inspire confidence.

  All that to say, I wouldn’t need to climb this gods-forsaken mountain if Euri would meet me at the statue like a normal fucking person!

  I grunted in annoyance, even as I knew I’d do a lot worse than scale the tallest peak in Teyvat if he only asked. I believed in him. No ifs, ands, or buts. He was my brother, my other half; he had his reasons, however alien they might seem at times.

  I was almost there. The windchill was uncomfortable but not truly dangerous, not to me. This was exercise. That was it. My darling older brother was doing his best to make sure I was physically fit enough to be a knight.

  Maybe if I told myself that enough times, I wouldn’t feel the need to punt him off the damn nail when I saw him.

  X

  I did it. I climbed Vindagnyr, likely the second to do so in living memory. I found an updraft of Anemo energy and rode it onto the Skyfrost Nail. I clung to it like a koala and shimmied up the side until I could finally crest the head of the nail.

  The head of the nail was big enough for a small group of people and rimmed in a bowl-shape. I tumbled over the side and into the bowl. Standing, I massaged my arms to get some feeling back into them.

  And there he was, my dearest brother. He sat lounging on the other side, next to a portable stove I knew he carried in his dimension storage. The stove’s open flame warmed a kettle and two sticks, each skewering three marshmallows.

  He was looking over the edge with a deep, focused expression. He was handsome, with high cheekbones, flawless skin, and soulful eyes framed by blue locks that gave him an ethereal appearance. We were twins after all; we even got the same sorts of attention.

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  All the male attention I received from drunkards wanting to “show me a good time,” I’d seen reversed for him. The general consensus among Mondstadt’s female populace seemed to be “He’d be so much more dateable if he wasn’t a batshit crazy hermit.” They didn’t dare say so in my hearing anymore, but Vile and Sara kept me abreast of the city’s rumor mill whenever I stopped by.

  Admittedly, I could have done without learning what an “ice cream sandwich” meant in the context of us twins. Not even Diluc had enough wine to scrub that image from my brain.

  Unfortunately for my brother, that “contemplative artist” look wouldn’t charm me. It was also the face he wore when he knew I was annoyed with him and wanted to look busy.

  “Euri,” I said, panting in exertion. “I’ve come.”

  “As the prophecy foretold,” he said solemnly. He held out his hand as if offering a benediction to the masses. “The Storm howls. The Traveler descends. The end is nigh! All hail Bard-Batos! Praise the great drunkard!”

  “Don’t think I won’t punt you off this nail, brother dearest. Was there any reason we couldn’t meet at our usual spot?”

  “For the view, Eula. Come on, this is the highest place in all of Teyvat. On a day like today, you can even see Celestia.”

  That caught me by surprise. “You can?”

  He motioned me over and slung an arm around my shoulders. “Yup. See? Look.”

  “I see it… It’s… not much to look at,” I said with some disappointment. It was so far away that only the barest silhouette could be seen.

  “No, silly, that’s Ningguang’s Jade Chamber,” my brother said with a chuckle. He tilted my chin with a finger. “There is Celestia. You know, that tiny little island up in the sky.”

  “Oh, I thought it was a funny shaped cloud.”

  “Nope. That’s it, the home of the Heavenly Principles.”

  “It’s…” I tried to find the right words. There it was, the subject of so many prayers and hymns. I’d read the myths of course, the Lawrence family library had a fair number of old, expensive books, but I’d never put much stock into religion. Then again, if there was anyone who might know the truth of the matter, it would be my brother, the oracle. “It’s… humbling? I’m not sure what to say.”

  “Is that what you think?” he asked with a hum. “Wanna know what I think when I see it up there?”

  “What?”

  “Annoyed. Frustrated. Angry. Rebellious, you might even say.”

  “Euri?”

  “What if I told you that Dvalin is just the beginning?”

  “Dvalin?”

  “That’s his name. Stormterror wasn’t always evil. Isn’t evil. Dvalin is one of the Four Winds.”

  “The Dragon of the East Wind,” I gasped. I grew up on stories of Lord Barbatos and his Four Winds, how they defeated the Storm God Decarabian and founded Mondstadt. “Then why? He’s one of Lord Bardbatos’ generals! One of Mondstadt’s greatest protectors! Why would he attack Mondstadt?”

  “He was,” he agreed. “His watch ended five centuries ago, during the Cataclysm. He was supposed to remain in slumber, recovering from injuries sustained in Mondstadt’s defense.”

  “Something awakened him?”

  “Worse, dear sister. This is no sleepy tantrum. Something corrupted him.”

  “And it has something to do with Celestia?”

  “Not really? I guess ultimately, yeah, it’s all their fault, but not directly.”

  “Why are you telling me this, Euri?” He’d never been this chatty, at least not about the important things. He loved to tease and poke fun, “trolling” he called it, but he’d kept his cards close to the vest for the most part.

  “Because this is just the beginning. We need to free Dvalin, and even then, all the other nations of Teyvat will undergo their own struggle. The worst part is that it’ll all be a prelude, just a seven-part prologue before the final climax, the war, hopefully the Last War.”

  “I… Euri…” I always scolded him, saying he ought to take things more seriously. Now that he was, I wasn’t sure I liked it. “I don’t understand.”

  “There will come a time when everyone, especially we of great ambition, will be asked to pick a side,” he said, his solemn voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve prepared for nine years. You might think it a long time, but I fear it is not enough.”

  “You’re scaring me.”

  “Good. My twin isn’t allowed to be a moron,” he said with a wan smile. He sat with a slouch and motioned for me to join him by the fire. He looked so tired, like he’d seen all the calamities facing the world. Maybe he had. “Sit down, little sister. I have marshmallows. Crackers and chocolate, too. I know you have a sweet tooth. There’s hot chocolate in the kettle.”

  “I… You…” Words escaped me. So, I sat next to him and allowed him to pull me into a hug. That oversized white coat I made fun of back in Mondstadt was so warm now, perfect for cuddling under.

  His voice fell to a true whisper now, soft against my ear. “Listen well, Eula, and I will tell you the history of the world, the terrors that still slumber deep below, the monsters that have begun to stir. I will tell you of what is to come, both the tragedies and triumphs.”

  What else could I do? I did as I’d done so many times in my childhood days. I sat and listened as he regaled me with tales I knew now to be true.

  I listened and learned and came to a decision: There would come a time when all Vision-bearers would be asked to pick a side. Euri had chosen his, so there was no need to ask me mine.

  I still wasn’t sure why he held so much resentment towards Celestia. I didn’t know what he was rebelling against. I had no interest in the other nations of Teyvat before now, but none of that mattered.

  All I knew was that I hated the face he was making now. My brother was the freest man in Mondstadt, as free as the Four Winds themselves. He should be joyful. He should be a smug, annoying jerk. He should be busy planning a thousand different pranks to pester Jean into an early grave. He should be off flirting with Sara or running in terror from Lisa’s lightning.

  He shouldn’t look like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

  Perhaps I had been hasty, oh so immature when I demanded that he take on my dreams, that he defend Mondstadt with me. I hadn’t known then that his eyes saw so much farther than my own.

  My brother was no liar; Mondstadt would have a protector in him. I knew it was a promise he would keep to the end of his days.

  Mondstadt would remember. I would not allow the city to forget the debt it owed to my brother. And when our time came, we would support him in turn, swords in hand.

  I swore it.

  Author’s Note

  No, this isn’t an incest story. They’re not Targaryens.

  Eula’s always so damn serious lol. Her self-imposed mission is now to prepare Mondstadt for a nebulous “Last War,” possibly against Celestia.

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