𝐶𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝘨. 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵

003: Fall into the deep void and survive

You flipped the next page of your journal. Your handwriting hasn't changed since all those years ago.

How long has it been? A few decades? A millennia? You didn't know. You didn't bother to keep track of time. You'd been surviving the vicious land of Teyvat, ever since you ran away from Khaenri'ah. All you knew was that it was more than a hundred years ago.

More than a hundred years of nothing but blurred routines and suffering alone.

You gazed outside your tent. It was in the middle of the day. You closed the journal shut and stood up. It was time to hunt for food. You grabbed your bag, never bothering to recheck everything. Everyday seemed the same, so you started to stop taking extra things. You only needed to restock the stuff in your backpack, and unnecessary weight would be useless.

You stepped outside the tent, grabbing your bow and arrows and your sword. You slid the blade into its sheath. You've had more than enough time to hone your hunting skills, and you'd been trying to improve your swordsmanship for who-knew-how long. You didn't know if you ever made progress on a professional level since nobody was there to teach you, but you can say that you're proud of your current skills. You've fought a lot of fatui mages, desert dwellers, and all kinds of literal forces of nature; It was how you survived.

You grabbed your makeshift map out of your backpack. Ever since you arrived at Teyvat, you've been making a map, both out of your memory and by exploring. You had practically been everywhere - except the desert. You've never had the patience in your past life and guts in your current life to explore that place.

You mentally outlined a small area that should have barrels of food. Your memory of your past life was fleeting from how long ago it was, but you could still somehow remember the contents of the game clearly - it was bizarre. But, you suspected it was because of the journal you wrote from the day you first arrived in this world. You never got to complete many of the quests, but you've studied multiple playthroughs of others, which was how you managed to make out a lot of theories. But in hindsight, it truly didn't matter to you. You made the map for convenience purposes only.

You passed through the small lake your camp was set up next to. You inevitably noticed your reflection.

You didn't age - at least physically. Your hair was messy and frizzy from just waking up. You had bandages wrapped around your arms from the injuries you sustained from fights, and scars that didn't quite fully heal since the fall of Khaenri'ah. You blinked. You had gotten used to your eyes now.

On one of the first days of arriving in this world, you had the unfavorable chance to notice your reflection in the window. You almost scared yourself with how unfamiliar and weird your eyes were. Your pupils were the shape of stars. You stared at yourself for a while before accepting the fact that you were truly Khaenri'ahn.

Your sister, for some reason, didn't have those eyes. That's why you didn't notice it earlier. That meant you were a Khaenri'ahn pure-blood - a royal, but you sure as hell was never treated like one. You were sure you and Lucianne were blood-related, so you thought you had her eyes as well. Even in your past life, you were both biological sisters. You were incredibly confused with the new realization of facts. You wanted to ask your sister about it, but you never actually investigated any further. You didn't want to regret finding out any type of truth about her, because Lucianne was special to you. So, you ended up reluctantly brushing it off in the end. You didn't want to ruin the comfortable life you had together. But, now that it didn't matter, your sister was already gone.

Your eyes signified your pure Khaenri'ahn blood. Yet, neither you, nor your sister were nobles. It did end up explaining why you never aged, but back then, nobody you knew reacted to your eyes, so... What was wrong with you? It seemed like everyone knew you had some sort of secret or some kind of birth defect, but your sister would've told you.