chapter 2: the fatui, the fight and the fairy of the spring

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Neutral could do nothing but run

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Neutral could do nothing but run. They weren't even conscious of the decision to hightail it out of there - their mind was stationary, taking in the feeble attempts of communications between the Skirmishers and the mages, but their legs were working double time to get them away. They had no business with the Abyss and the Fatui in a single day.

They heard shouting behind them, heard the cackles of abyss mages on the chase, and cursed themselves for making their departure too noisy.

The path from the Whispering Woods was overgrown with bracken and twigs. Weather recently had been stormy, sending nature and supplies all over the place. Crates of wine had been carried to Archons knows where, trees had lost most of their leaves, and all of this chaos had caused the Knights of Favonius to work overtime to sort it all out.

Neutral could still hear the Skirmishers and mages after them, tripping over the fern littering the pathway.

"You bumbling fool! Are you blind? Get up!"

The commotion bought Neutral time - precious, limited time that they couldn't waste no matter what. A sharp right took them darting towards the Thousand Winds Temple.

Footsteps ceased. Frustrated cries faded into the evening song of the birds.

"You lost them? You lost them?! What if they heard our plans?? Then what? You unreliable fool!"

Neutral's detour meant that the road back to Mondstadt would be even longer now. The path was probably still littered with Fatui sniffing them out, and abyss mages were fast. They couldn't risk it. So much for a relaxing evening. They would be lucky if the Knights didn't skin them alive when they got back.

The sun was setting now, casting a dim gaze over Mondstadt. The path had cleared out now - the abyss mages had retreated to the cold of Stormbearer Mountains and the Skirmishers had resumed their posts in the woods. They tugged down the sleeves of their dress shirt, silently cursing themselves for not having the foresight to bring a jacket.

All was silent, until it wasn't.

The newfound chaos started when a group of wild boars came thundering out of the forest. Usually, this was a normal occurrence - a particularly unskilled hunter often startled more game than they caught - but what was not normal was the direction that the boars were coming from: Springvale.

From what Neutral knew about Springvale, almost every hunter was the best of the best, certainly incapable of startling such a group of boars like this. And no sharpened arrows were hurtling after them, hoping to strike a few down, so the only conclusion that Neutral could come to was that they were running away from something far more threatening than a hunter.

Neutral's hypothesis was proved correct when they neared the village in question and saw the entire place in utter disarray. Cottages were set alight, crumbling like marshmallows left on a flame. Mothers, fathers, and children alike were huddled in groups around the lake, some with singed clothes, others with soot-stained faces. Knights of Favonius rushed to and fro, carrying bags of salvaged remains from houses and (in some dire cases) people in their arms. One of the Knights made eye contact with Neutral. With mounting dread, they realized that it was the intoxicated Knight from earlier.

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